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thrust Memes

Squatting
Squatting
Thrusting
Thrusting
Squating
Squating
Pelvic Thrusts
Pelvic Thrusts
Drunked
Drunked
over
over
out
out
to-the-left
to-the-left
pelvic thrust
pelvic thrust
looking away
looking away 

    
                    

                

            
        
    

    
    
    






            

            
            

                

                    
                

                

                    
                    
                    

                        


	


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        billdenbrough:
billdenbrough:
absolutely fucking losing it over the editors choosing to put finn saying “i didn’t even think about [richie’s sexuality] when we were shooting it until after” over footage of the arcade scene (vid credit)
ok reblogging this bc some of the stuff in the notes is like, probably comedic, but i saw an ask earlier like ‘do you think finn is homophobic’ so like, in case it’s not and ppl are genuinely like ?! rn, i answered an ask in more detail here (where i have no patience for adults who yell at finn lmao) but general thrust is! i put this here bc i thought the editing choice was funny in terms of irony which is like, on the editors lmao, and doesn’t reflect on finn, and i talk in the ask a little abt the limitations of what can be said in interviews, but honestly i think he deliberately tried to like. pay respect to how harrowing homophobia is to experience by saying “it was a challenging thing to even act through… i’ve never gone through some of the things some people have” which like. especially in the context of this being a film that opened with a violent act of homophobia? is actually fairly cognisant for a teenager, esp one whose voice always gets weighted far beyond his own control
: Bree
billdenbrough:
billdenbrough:
absolutely fucking losing it over the editors choosing to put finn saying “i didn’t even think about [richie’s sexuality] when we were shooting it until after” over footage of the arcade scene (vid credit)
ok reblogging this bc some of the stuff in the notes is like, probably comedic, but i saw an ask earlier like ‘do you think finn is homophobic’ so like, in case it’s not and ppl are genuinely like ?! rn, i answered an ask in more detail here (where i have no patience for adults who yell at finn lmao) but general thrust is! i put this here bc i thought the editing choice was funny in terms of irony which is like, on the editors lmao, and doesn’t reflect on finn, and i talk in the ask a little abt the limitations of what can be said in interviews, but honestly i think he deliberately tried to like. pay respect to how harrowing homophobia is to experience by saying “it was a challenging thing to even act through… i’ve never gone through some of the things some people have” which like. especially in the context of this being a film that opened with a violent act of homophobia? is actually fairly cognisant for a teenager, esp one whose voice always gets weighted far beyond his own control

        

            
            

                
                
                    billdenbrough:
billdenbrough:
absolutely fucking losing it over the editors choosing to put finn saying “i didn’t even think about [richie’s sexuality] when we were shooting it until after” over footage of the arcade scene (vid credit)
ok reblogging this bc some of the stuff in the notes is like, probably comedic, but i saw an ask earlier like ‘do you think finn is homophobic’ so like, in case it’s not and ppl are genuinely like ?! rn, i answered an ask in more detail here (where i have no patience for adults who yell at finn lmao) but general thrust is! i put this here bc i thought the editing choice was funny in terms of irony which is like, on the editors lmao, and doesn’t reflect on finn, and i talk in the ask a little abt the limitations of what can be said in interviews, but honestly i think he deliberately tried to like. pay respect to how harrowing homophobia is to experience by saying “it was a challenging thing to even act through… i’ve never gone through some of the things some people have” which like. especially in the context of this being a film that opened with a violent act of homophobia? is actually fairly cognisant for a teenager, esp one whose voice always gets weighted far beyond his own control
: Bree
billdenbrough:
billdenbrough:
absolutely fucking losing it over the editors choosing to put finn saying “i didn’t even think about [richie’s sexuality] when we were shooting it until after” over footage of the arcade scene (vid credit)
ok reblogging this bc some of the stuff in the notes is like, probably comedic, but i saw an ask earlier like ‘do you think finn is homophobic’ so like, in case it’s not and ppl are genuinely like ?! rn, i answered an ask in more detail here (where i have no patience for adults who yell at finn lmao) but general thrust is! i put this here bc i thought the editing choice was funny in terms of irony which is like, on the editors lmao, and doesn’t reflect on finn, and i talk in the ask a little abt the limitations of what can be said in interviews, but honestly i think he deliberately tried to like. pay respect to how harrowing homophobia is to experience by saying “it was a challenging thing to even act through… i’ve never gone through some of the things some people have” which like. especially in the context of this being a film that opened with a violent act of homophobia? is actually fairly cognisant for a teenager, esp one whose voice always gets weighted far beyond his own control

                    
                    

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
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        awesomacious:

A greatly written story: writing-prompt-s
 You're in charge of assigning every child
 on Earth the monster under their bed
 One child in particular has caused every
 monster assigned to him/her to quit. You
 decide to assign yourself.
 kittenwiskers
 Case: #273402
 Status: Disastrous
 I stare at the file and realize I have no
 options, over the last 2 years every
 monster assigned to Charlotte Dower has
 quit, every last one. Her first monster; a
 giant goldfish-faced humanoid named
 Bubba, had been with her for four years
 and then she wasn't scared of him
 anymore. After that it was a string of
 different common, uncommon, and rare
 monsters... I even assigned a sentient
 sock monster to her. He came back
 crying
 I look on my tablet, only one assignable
 monster left; myself. Field work has never
 been my cup of tea, but desperate times
 call for desperate measures. So at 8:03
 pm, after Mrs. Gideon tucks in Charlotte
 and her little brother Daniel; I slither into
 the space beneath Charlotte's bed
 Across the room underneath Daniel's crib
 is a rookie, Chico, a standard Creep kind
 of monster.
 I turn my attention to the bed above me,
 Charlotte is still awake but barely, reach
 up over the bed and run an ice cold
 finger over her cheek, silence, so I do it
 again
 "I'm not afraid of you monster!" She
 whispers, but her voice is shaking. I can
 see a small clock on the wall 8:14, a door
 somewhere in the house slams and there
 is an audible hitch of breath from above
 me. A few minutes go by I can hear
 Francis Gideon yelling at his wife. There
 are heavy footsteps on the stairs, and
 loud panting breaths, Charlotte
 scrambles off the bed and..
 She. CRAWLS. Under. The. Bed. With
 Me.
 "Move. Over!" Charlotte hisses at me. I
 The door to the bedroom slams open and
 I smell the stench of human intoxicants
 before the man even steps inside.
 I know why Charlotte isn't afraid of any of
 my monsters; she's afraid of her own.
 Francis reaches a hand under the bed
 and I thrust my wrist into it, he starts to
 pull, I slither out.
 "What the... I cut Francis's next words
 off by unfolding to my full 12 foot height.
 Looming over the drunken man I caress
 my cold fingers down his face.
 "If you ever touch, scare, or harm my
 child again, I will find you, and I will do
 the same to you, for all eternity." I
 promise to him
 As Francis runs from the room he soils
 himself.
 I pull Charlotte from under the bed, tuck
 her back under her covers and kiss her
 forehead goodnight. "l'll be back
 tomorrow night, sleep well darling."
 Charlotte Dower is my child, I am the
 monster under her bed
 funny.C
awesomacious:

A greatly written story
        

            
            

                
                
                    awesomacious:

A greatly written story: writing-prompt-s
 You're in charge of assigning every child
 on Earth the monster under their bed
 One child in particular has caused every
 monster assigned to him/her to quit. You
 decide to assign yourself.
 kittenwiskers
 Case: #273402
 Status: Disastrous
 I stare at the file and realize I have no
 options, over the last 2 years every
 monster assigned to Charlotte Dower has
 quit, every last one. Her first monster; a
 giant goldfish-faced humanoid named
 Bubba, had been with her for four years
 and then she wasn't scared of him
 anymore. After that it was a string of
 different common, uncommon, and rare
 monsters... I even assigned a sentient
 sock monster to her. He came back
 crying
 I look on my tablet, only one assignable
 monster left; myself. Field work has never
 been my cup of tea, but desperate times
 call for desperate measures. So at 8:03
 pm, after Mrs. Gideon tucks in Charlotte
 and her little brother Daniel; I slither into
 the space beneath Charlotte's bed
 Across the room underneath Daniel's crib
 is a rookie, Chico, a standard Creep kind
 of monster.
 I turn my attention to the bed above me,
 Charlotte is still awake but barely, reach
 up over the bed and run an ice cold
 finger over her cheek, silence, so I do it
 again
 "I'm not afraid of you monster!" She
 whispers, but her voice is shaking. I can
 see a small clock on the wall 8:14, a door
 somewhere in the house slams and there
 is an audible hitch of breath from above
 me. A few minutes go by I can hear
 Francis Gideon yelling at his wife. There
 are heavy footsteps on the stairs, and
 loud panting breaths, Charlotte
 scrambles off the bed and..
 She. CRAWLS. Under. The. Bed. With
 Me.
 "Move. Over!" Charlotte hisses at me. I
 The door to the bedroom slams open and
 I smell the stench of human intoxicants
 before the man even steps inside.
 I know why Charlotte isn't afraid of any of
 my monsters; she's afraid of her own.
 Francis reaches a hand under the bed
 and I thrust my wrist into it, he starts to
 pull, I slither out.
 "What the... I cut Francis's next words
 off by unfolding to my full 12 foot height.
 Looming over the drunken man I caress
 my cold fingers down his face.
 "If you ever touch, scare, or harm my
 child again, I will find you, and I will do
 the same to you, for all eternity." I
 promise to him
 As Francis runs from the room he soils
 himself.
 I pull Charlotte from under the bed, tuck
 her back under her covers and kiss her
 forehead goodnight. "l'll be back
 tomorrow night, sleep well darling."
 Charlotte Dower is my child, I am the
 monster under her bed
 funny.C
awesomacious:

A greatly written story
                    
                
            

            
                
                
awesomacious:

A greatly written story

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        awesomacious:

A greatly written story: writing-prompt-s
 You're in charge of assigning every child
 on Earth the monster under their bed
 One child in particular has caused every
 monster assigned to him/her to quit. You
 decide to assign yourself.
 kittenwiskers
 Case: #273402
 Status: Disastrous
 I stare at the file and realize I have no
 options, over the last 2 years every
 monster assigned to Charlotte Dower has
 quit, every last one. Her first monster; a
 giant goldfish-faced humanoid named
 Bubba, had been with her for four years
 and then she wasn't scared of him
 anymore. After that it was a string of
 different common, uncommon, and rare
 monsters... I even assigned a sentient
 sock monster to her. He came back
 crying
 I look on my tablet, only one assignable
 monster left; myself. Field work has never
 been my cup of tea, but desperate times
 call for desperate measures. So at 8:03
 pm, after Mrs. Gideon tucks in Charlotte
 and her little brother Daniel; I slither into
 the space beneath Charlotte's bed
 Across the room underneath Daniel's crib
 is a rookie, Chico, a standard Creep kind
 of monster.
 I turn my attention to the bed above me,
 Charlotte is still awake but barely, reach
 up over the bed and run an ice cold
 finger over her cheek, silence, so I do it
 again
 "I'm not afraid of you monster!" She
 whispers, but her voice is shaking. I can
 see a small clock on the wall 8:14, a door
 somewhere in the house slams and there
 is an audible hitch of breath from above
 me. A few minutes go by I can hear
 Francis Gideon yelling at his wife. There
 are heavy footsteps on the stairs, and
 loud panting breaths, Charlotte
 scrambles off the bed and..
 She. CRAWLS. Under. The. Bed. With
 Me.
 "Move. Over!" Charlotte hisses at me. I
 The door to the bedroom slams open and
 I smell the stench of human intoxicants
 before the man even steps inside.
 I know why Charlotte isn't afraid of any of
 my monsters; she's afraid of her own.
 Francis reaches a hand under the bed
 and I thrust my wrist into it, he starts to
 pull, I slither out.
 "What the... I cut Francis's next words
 off by unfolding to my full 12 foot height.
 Looming over the drunken man I caress
 my cold fingers down his face.
 "If you ever touch, scare, or harm my
 child again, I will find you, and I will do
 the same to you, for all eternity." I
 promise to him
 As Francis runs from the room he soils
 himself.
 I pull Charlotte from under the bed, tuck
 her back under her covers and kiss her
 forehead goodnight. "l'll be back
 tomorrow night, sleep well darling."
 Charlotte Dower is my child, I am the
 monster under her bed
 funny.C
awesomacious:

A greatly written story
        

            
            

                
                
                    awesomacious:

A greatly written story: writing-prompt-s
 You're in charge of assigning every child
 on Earth the monster under their bed
 One child in particular has caused every
 monster assigned to him/her to quit. You
 decide to assign yourself.
 kittenwiskers
 Case: #273402
 Status: Disastrous
 I stare at the file and realize I have no
 options, over the last 2 years every
 monster assigned to Charlotte Dower has
 quit, every last one. Her first monster; a
 giant goldfish-faced humanoid named
 Bubba, had been with her for four years
 and then she wasn't scared of him
 anymore. After that it was a string of
 different common, uncommon, and rare
 monsters... I even assigned a sentient
 sock monster to her. He came back
 crying
 I look on my tablet, only one assignable
 monster left; myself. Field work has never
 been my cup of tea, but desperate times
 call for desperate measures. So at 8:03
 pm, after Mrs. Gideon tucks in Charlotte
 and her little brother Daniel; I slither into
 the space beneath Charlotte's bed
 Across the room underneath Daniel's crib
 is a rookie, Chico, a standard Creep kind
 of monster.
 I turn my attention to the bed above me,
 Charlotte is still awake but barely, reach
 up over the bed and run an ice cold
 finger over her cheek, silence, so I do it
 again
 "I'm not afraid of you monster!" She
 whispers, but her voice is shaking. I can
 see a small clock on the wall 8:14, a door
 somewhere in the house slams and there
 is an audible hitch of breath from above
 me. A few minutes go by I can hear
 Francis Gideon yelling at his wife. There
 are heavy footsteps on the stairs, and
 loud panting breaths, Charlotte
 scrambles off the bed and..
 She. CRAWLS. Under. The. Bed. With
 Me.
 "Move. Over!" Charlotte hisses at me. I
 The door to the bedroom slams open and
 I smell the stench of human intoxicants
 before the man even steps inside.
 I know why Charlotte isn't afraid of any of
 my monsters; she's afraid of her own.
 Francis reaches a hand under the bed
 and I thrust my wrist into it, he starts to
 pull, I slither out.
 "What the... I cut Francis's next words
 off by unfolding to my full 12 foot height.
 Looming over the drunken man I caress
 my cold fingers down his face.
 "If you ever touch, scare, or harm my
 child again, I will find you, and I will do
 the same to you, for all eternity." I
 promise to him
 As Francis runs from the room he soils
 himself.
 I pull Charlotte from under the bed, tuck
 her back under her covers and kiss her
 forehead goodnight. "l'll be back
 tomorrow night, sleep well darling."
 Charlotte Dower is my child, I am the
 monster under her bed
 funny.C
awesomacious:

A greatly written story
                    
                
            

            
                
                
awesomacious:

A greatly written story

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        A greatly written story: writing-prompt-s
 You're in charge of assigning every child
 on Earth the monster under their bed
 One child in particular has caused every
 monster assigned to him/her to quit. You
 decide to assign yourself.
 kittenwiskers
 Case: #273402
 Status: Disastrous
 I stare at the file and realize I have no
 options, over the last 2 years every
 monster assigned to Charlotte Dower has
 quit, every last one. Her first monster; a
 giant goldfish-faced humanoid named
 Bubba, had been with her for four years
 and then she wasn't scared of him
 anymore. After that it was a string of
 different common, uncommon, and rare
 monsters... I even assigned a sentient
 sock monster to her. He came back
 crying
 I look on my tablet, only one assignable
 monster left; myself. Field work has never
 been my cup of tea, but desperate times
 call for desperate measures. So at 8:03
 pm, after Mrs. Gideon tucks in Charlotte
 and her little brother Daniel; I slither into
 the space beneath Charlotte's bed
 Across the room underneath Daniel's crib
 is a rookie, Chico, a standard Creep kind
 of monster.
 I turn my attention to the bed above me,
 Charlotte is still awake but barely, reach
 up over the bed and run an ice cold
 finger over her cheek, silence, so I do it
 again
 "I'm not afraid of you monster!" She
 whispers, but her voice is shaking. I can
 see a small clock on the wall 8:14, a door
 somewhere in the house slams and there
 is an audible hitch of breath from above
 me. A few minutes go by I can hear
 Francis Gideon yelling at his wife. There
 are heavy footsteps on the stairs, and
 loud panting breaths, Charlotte
 scrambles off the bed and..
 She. CRAWLS. Under. The. Bed. With
 Me.
 "Move. Over!" Charlotte hisses at me. I
 The door to the bedroom slams open and
 I smell the stench of human intoxicants
 before the man even steps inside.
 I know why Charlotte isn't afraid of any of
 my monsters; she's afraid of her own.
 Francis reaches a hand under the bed
 and I thrust my wrist into it, he starts to
 pull, I slither out.
 "What the... I cut Francis's next words
 off by unfolding to my full 12 foot height.
 Looming over the drunken man I caress
 my cold fingers down his face.
 "If you ever touch, scare, or harm my
 child again, I will find you, and I will do
 the same to you, for all eternity." I
 promise to him
 As Francis runs from the room he soils
 himself.
 I pull Charlotte from under the bed, tuck
 her back under her covers and kiss her
 forehead goodnight. "l'll be back
 tomorrow night, sleep well darling."
 Charlotte Dower is my child, I am the
 monster under her bed
 funny.C
A greatly written story
        

            
            

                
                
                    A greatly written story: writing-prompt-s
 You're in charge of assigning every child
 on Earth the monster under their bed
 One child in particular has caused every
 monster assigned to him/her to quit. You
 decide to assign yourself.
 kittenwiskers
 Case: #273402
 Status: Disastrous
 I stare at the file and realize I have no
 options, over the last 2 years every
 monster assigned to Charlotte Dower has
 quit, every last one. Her first monster; a
 giant goldfish-faced humanoid named
 Bubba, had been with her for four years
 and then she wasn't scared of him
 anymore. After that it was a string of
 different common, uncommon, and rare
 monsters... I even assigned a sentient
 sock monster to her. He came back
 crying
 I look on my tablet, only one assignable
 monster left; myself. Field work has never
 been my cup of tea, but desperate times
 call for desperate measures. So at 8:03
 pm, after Mrs. Gideon tucks in Charlotte
 and her little brother Daniel; I slither into
 the space beneath Charlotte's bed
 Across the room underneath Daniel's crib
 is a rookie, Chico, a standard Creep kind
 of monster.
 I turn my attention to the bed above me,
 Charlotte is still awake but barely, reach
 up over the bed and run an ice cold
 finger over her cheek, silence, so I do it
 again
 "I'm not afraid of you monster!" She
 whispers, but her voice is shaking. I can
 see a small clock on the wall 8:14, a door
 somewhere in the house slams and there
 is an audible hitch of breath from above
 me. A few minutes go by I can hear
 Francis Gideon yelling at his wife. There
 are heavy footsteps on the stairs, and
 loud panting breaths, Charlotte
 scrambles off the bed and..
 She. CRAWLS. Under. The. Bed. With
 Me.
 "Move. Over!" Charlotte hisses at me. I
 The door to the bedroom slams open and
 I smell the stench of human intoxicants
 before the man even steps inside.
 I know why Charlotte isn't afraid of any of
 my monsters; she's afraid of her own.
 Francis reaches a hand under the bed
 and I thrust my wrist into it, he starts to
 pull, I slither out.
 "What the... I cut Francis's next words
 off by unfolding to my full 12 foot height.
 Looming over the drunken man I caress
 my cold fingers down his face.
 "If you ever touch, scare, or harm my
 child again, I will find you, and I will do
 the same to you, for all eternity." I
 promise to him
 As Francis runs from the room he soils
 himself.
 I pull Charlotte from under the bed, tuck
 her back under her covers and kiss her
 forehead goodnight. "l'll be back
 tomorrow night, sleep well darling."
 Charlotte Dower is my child, I am the
 monster under her bed
 funny.C
A greatly written story
                    
                
            

            
                
                
A greatly written story

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        oh-the-mess-i-make:
madamehearthwitch:

evilkillerpoptarts:

momo-de-avis:

cumaeansibyl:

a) do you really think someone would put all that time and energy into making an infinity stone jewelry piece if they didn’t know all about the infinity stones
b) I don’t see you putting all that time and energy into making an infinity stone jewelry piece, what have you contributed lately besides being a dick to people for no reason

c) who gives a shit if you can’t name all the stones, you’re allowed to enjoy the shit you enjoy without some whiney ass loser quizzing you to the smallest detail

I will NEVER FORGET my first convention.  A table was doing Transformers trivia and you could win a prize.  The men in front of me were asked fairly difficult questions.  
Then I rolled up.  Dressed as Thrust because buttwings, damnit.
“Oh, we’ll go easy on you,” the dude said in the most condescending, smarmy tone.  “Name one of the dinobots.”
I rattled all five off in alphabetical order, and demanded that they tell me all six Constructicons.
There were several guys at the table.  They managed five.
“You forgot Bonecrusher,” I said sweetly and walked off.  I didn’t want the prize I’d rightfully earned.  Their spluttering was all I wanted.
If you’re gonna gatekeep, I’m gonna DESTROY YOU.

Great story BUT… You shouldn’t have to destroy them!!
You don’t have to love something in a ridiculously obsessive way that knows every tiny fucking detail for your love of it to bring you joy. If that’s how they get joy, cool, nice for them. But you don’t have to.
You can casually love a thing, cosplay as a thing, go to cons for a thing, without dissecting it into little pieces.
Women do not have to be exceptional in order to belong.

WOMEN DO NOT HAVE TO BE EXCEPTIONAL IN ORDER TO BELONG
: Countess Von Fingerbang
 @HeatherApplebum
 Men who feel the need to quiz women
 when we show any interest in something
 that they deem "theirs" are fucking
 annoying. Cut it the fuck out, suck a dick
 "With all the six stones I can simply
 snap my fingers, they will all cease to
 exist. I call that...mercy"-Thanos
 Replying to @MajinCheeks
 But can you name all the stones
 according to color?
 5/11/18, 3:22 PM
 1 Retweet
 e r Bluffy Spice @MajinCh... . 17h
 Replying to @themanstre
 Let's play!
 Space
 Mind
 Power
 5/12/18,6:43 AM
 78.9K Retweets 216K Likes
oh-the-mess-i-make:
madamehearthwitch:

evilkillerpoptarts:

momo-de-avis:

cumaeansibyl:

a) do you really think someone would put all that time and energy into making an infinity stone jewelry piece if they didn’t know all about the infinity stones
b) I don’t see you putting all that time and energy into making an infinity stone jewelry piece, what have you contributed lately besides being a dick to people for no reason

c) who gives a shit if you can’t name all the stones, you’re allowed to enjoy the shit you enjoy without some whiney ass loser quizzing you to the smallest detail

I will NEVER FORGET my first convention.  A table was doing Transformers trivia and you could win a prize.  The men in front of me were asked fairly difficult questions.  
Then I rolled up.  Dressed as Thrust because buttwings, damnit.
“Oh, we’ll go easy on you,” the dude said in the most condescending, smarmy tone.  “Name one of the dinobots.”
I rattled all five off in alphabetical order, and demanded that they tell me all six Constructicons.
There were several guys at the table.  They managed five.
“You forgot Bonecrusher,” I said sweetly and walked off.  I didn’t want the prize I’d rightfully earned.  Their spluttering was all I wanted.
If you’re gonna gatekeep, I’m gonna DESTROY YOU.

Great story BUT… You shouldn’t have to destroy them!!
You don’t have to love something in a ridiculously obsessive way that knows every tiny fucking detail for your love of it to bring you joy. If that’s how they get joy, cool, nice for them. But you don’t have to.
You can casually love a thing, cosplay as a thing, go to cons for a thing, without dissecting it into little pieces.
Women do not have to be exceptional in order to belong.

WOMEN DO NOT HAVE TO BE EXCEPTIONAL IN ORDER TO BELONG

        

            
            

                
                
                    oh-the-mess-i-make:
madamehearthwitch:

evilkillerpoptarts:

momo-de-avis:

cumaeansibyl:

a) do you really think someone would put all that time and energy into making an infinity stone jewelry piece if they didn’t know all about the infinity stones
b) I don’t see you putting all that time and energy into making an infinity stone jewelry piece, what have you contributed lately besides being a dick to people for no reason

c) who gives a shit if you can’t name all the stones, you’re allowed to enjoy the shit you enjoy without some whiney ass loser quizzing you to the smallest detail

I will NEVER FORGET my first convention.  A table was doing Transformers trivia and you could win a prize.  The men in front of me were asked fairly difficult questions.  
Then I rolled up.  Dressed as Thrust because buttwings, damnit.
“Oh, we’ll go easy on you,” the dude said in the most condescending, smarmy tone.  “Name one of the dinobots.”
I rattled all five off in alphabetical order, and demanded that they tell me all six Constructicons.
There were several guys at the table.  They managed five.
“You forgot Bonecrusher,” I said sweetly and walked off.  I didn’t want the prize I’d rightfully earned.  Their spluttering was all I wanted.
If you’re gonna gatekeep, I’m gonna DESTROY YOU.

Great story BUT… You shouldn’t have to destroy them!!
You don’t have to love something in a ridiculously obsessive way that knows every tiny fucking detail for your love of it to bring you joy. If that’s how they get joy, cool, nice for them. But you don’t have to.
You can casually love a thing, cosplay as a thing, go to cons for a thing, without dissecting it into little pieces.
Women do not have to be exceptional in order to belong.

WOMEN DO NOT HAVE TO BE EXCEPTIONAL IN ORDER TO BELONG
: Countess Von Fingerbang
 @HeatherApplebum
 Men who feel the need to quiz women
 when we show any interest in something
 that they deem "theirs" are fucking
 annoying. Cut it the fuck out, suck a dick
 "With all the six stones I can simply
 snap my fingers, they will all cease to
 exist. I call that...mercy"-Thanos
 Replying to @MajinCheeks
 But can you name all the stones
 according to color?
 5/11/18, 3:22 PM
 1 Retweet
 e r Bluffy Spice @MajinCh... . 17h
 Replying to @themanstre
 Let's play!
 Space
 Mind
 Power
 5/12/18,6:43 AM
 78.9K Retweets 216K Likes
oh-the-mess-i-make:
madamehearthwitch:

evilkillerpoptarts:

momo-de-avis:

cumaeansibyl:

a) do you really think someone would put all that time and energy into making an infinity stone jewelry piece if they didn’t know all about the infinity stones
b) I don’t see you putting all that time and energy into making an infinity stone jewelry piece, what have you contributed lately besides being a dick to people for no reason

c) who gives a shit if you can’t name all the stones, you’re allowed to enjoy the shit you enjoy without some whiney ass loser quizzing you to the smallest detail

I will NEVER FORGET my first convention.  A table was doing Transformers trivia and you could win a prize.  The men in front of me were asked fairly difficult questions.  
Then I rolled up.  Dressed as Thrust because buttwings, damnit.
“Oh, we’ll go easy on you,” the dude said in the most condescending, smarmy tone.  “Name one of the dinobots.”
I rattled all five off in alphabetical order, and demanded that they tell me all six Constructicons.
There were several guys at the table.  They managed five.
“You forgot Bonecrusher,” I said sweetly and walked off.  I didn’t want the prize I’d rightfully earned.  Their spluttering was all I wanted.
If you’re gonna gatekeep, I’m gonna DESTROY YOU.

Great story BUT… You shouldn’t have to destroy them!!
You don’t have to love something in a ridiculously obsessive way that knows every tiny fucking detail for your love of it to bring you joy. If that’s how they get joy, cool, nice for them. But you don’t have to.
You can casually love a thing, cosplay as a thing, go to cons for a thing, without dissecting it into little pieces.
Women do not have to be exceptional in order to belong.

WOMEN DO NOT HAVE TO BE EXCEPTIONAL IN ORDER TO BELONG

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
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        The Monster Under the Bed: writing-prompt-s
 You're in charge of assigning every child
 on Earth the monster under their bed.
 One child in particular has caused every
 monster assigned to him/her to quit. You
 decide to assign yourself.
 kittenwiskers
 Case: #273402
 Status: Disastrous.
 I stare at the file and realize I have no
 options, over the last 2 years every
 monster assigned to Charlotte Dower has
 quit, every last one. Her first monster; a
 giant goldfish-faced humanoid named
 Bubba, had been with her for four years
 and then she wasn't scared of him
 anymore. After that it was a string of
 different common, uncommon, and rare
 monsters... I even assigned a sentient
 sock monster to her. He came back
 crying!
 I look on my tablet, only one assignable
 monster left; myself. Field work has never
 been my cup of tea, but desperate times
 call for desperate measures. So at 8:03
 pm, after Mrs. Gideon tucks in Charlotte
 and her little brother Daniel; I slither into
 the space beneath Charlotte's bed
 Across the room underneath Daniel's crib
 is a rookie, Chico, a standard Creep kind
 of monster.
 I turn my attention to the bed above me,
 Charlotte is still awake but barely, I reach
 up over the bed and run an ice cold
 finger over her cheek, silence, so I do it
 gain.
 "I'm not afraid of you monster!" She
 whispers, but her voice is shaking. I can
 see a small clock on the wall 8:14, a door
 somewhere in the house slams and there
 is an audible hitch of breath from above
 me. A few minutes go by I can hear
 Francis Gideon yelling at his wife. There
 are heavy footsteps on the stairs, and
 loud panting breaths, Charlotte
 scrambles off the bed and...
 She. CRAWLS. Under. The. Bed. With.
 Me.
 "Move. Over!" Charlotte hisses at me.I
 do.
 The door to the bedroom slams open and
 I smell the stench of human intoxicants
 before the man even steps inside.
 I know why Charlotte isn't afraid of any of
 my monsters; she's afraid of her own.
 Francis reaches a hand under the bed
 and I thrust my wrist into it, he starts to
 pull, I slither out.
 "What the..." I cut Francis's next words
 off by unfolding to my full 12 foot height.
 Looming over the drunken man I caress
 my cold fingers down his face.
 "If you ever touch, scare, or harm my
 child again, I will find you, and I will do
 the same to you, for all eternity." I
 promise to him.
 As Francis runs from the room he soils
 himself.
 I pull Charlotte from under the bed, tuck
 her back under her covers and kiss her
 forehead goodnight. "I'll be back
 tomorrow night, sleep well darling."
 Charlotte Dower is my child, I am the
 monster under her bed.
The Monster Under the Bed
        

            
            

                
                
                    The Monster Under the Bed: writing-prompt-s
 You're in charge of assigning every child
 on Earth the monster under their bed.
 One child in particular has caused every
 monster assigned to him/her to quit. You
 decide to assign yourself.
 kittenwiskers
 Case: #273402
 Status: Disastrous.
 I stare at the file and realize I have no
 options, over the last 2 years every
 monster assigned to Charlotte Dower has
 quit, every last one. Her first monster; a
 giant goldfish-faced humanoid named
 Bubba, had been with her for four years
 and then she wasn't scared of him
 anymore. After that it was a string of
 different common, uncommon, and rare
 monsters... I even assigned a sentient
 sock monster to her. He came back
 crying!
 I look on my tablet, only one assignable
 monster left; myself. Field work has never
 been my cup of tea, but desperate times
 call for desperate measures. So at 8:03
 pm, after Mrs. Gideon tucks in Charlotte
 and her little brother Daniel; I slither into
 the space beneath Charlotte's bed
 Across the room underneath Daniel's crib
 is a rookie, Chico, a standard Creep kind
 of monster.
 I turn my attention to the bed above me,
 Charlotte is still awake but barely, I reach
 up over the bed and run an ice cold
 finger over her cheek, silence, so I do it
 gain.
 "I'm not afraid of you monster!" She
 whispers, but her voice is shaking. I can
 see a small clock on the wall 8:14, a door
 somewhere in the house slams and there
 is an audible hitch of breath from above
 me. A few minutes go by I can hear
 Francis Gideon yelling at his wife. There
 are heavy footsteps on the stairs, and
 loud panting breaths, Charlotte
 scrambles off the bed and...
 She. CRAWLS. Under. The. Bed. With.
 Me.
 "Move. Over!" Charlotte hisses at me.I
 do.
 The door to the bedroom slams open and
 I smell the stench of human intoxicants
 before the man even steps inside.
 I know why Charlotte isn't afraid of any of
 my monsters; she's afraid of her own.
 Francis reaches a hand under the bed
 and I thrust my wrist into it, he starts to
 pull, I slither out.
 "What the..." I cut Francis's next words
 off by unfolding to my full 12 foot height.
 Looming over the drunken man I caress
 my cold fingers down his face.
 "If you ever touch, scare, or harm my
 child again, I will find you, and I will do
 the same to you, for all eternity." I
 promise to him.
 As Francis runs from the room he soils
 himself.
 I pull Charlotte from under the bed, tuck
 her back under her covers and kiss her
 forehead goodnight. "I'll be back
 tomorrow night, sleep well darling."
 Charlotte Dower is my child, I am the
 monster under her bed.
The Monster Under the Bed
                    
                
            

            
                
                
The Monster Under the Bed

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
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        deadcatwithaflamethrower:

hebic:
kyraneko:

balencia:

kitrazzle:

pissedoffweasley:

wizardingheadcanon:

kyraneko:

elidyce:

thatgirlonstage:

fuckyeahdeathlyhallows:

sirlestrange:

#that is a human as a rat as a cup

That was a long 12 years for Wormtail.

Can you imagine how differently their lives would’ve gone if Ron, in trying to transfigure Scabbers, had actually transfigured him back into a human?Just take a moment to imagine McGonagall’s reaction if Peter Pettigrew had abruptly appeared in her classroom from Ronald Weasley’s rat.Take a moment.

Or if Ron had fucked it up a little worse and couldn’t get ‘Scabbers’ back and McGonagall had take him to disenchant him and next thing we know there’s a naked Peter Pettigrew sitting on McGonagall’s desk and the kids in that class learn six new swear words, a hex they will never dare to use, and a fear of Minerva McGonagall’s wrath that will be with them until the day they die.
Ten and twenty years later first years are being pulled aside and warned never mess around in Transfiguration seriously the last time a kid mucked something up in that class Professor McGonagall used two semi-legal hexes, took down a Death Eater and sabotaged the rise of the Dark Lord before Potter had time to get his wand out.

What most of Hogwarts learned first on that otherwise-unexceptionable day was that Professor McGonagall could sure scream loud.
Professor Flitwick’s Charms 5th-year Charms class was close enough to catch the full effect, and the door had been left open besides; en masse the students recoiled with shock and a miscast Hiccuping Charm broke one of the windows (out which the entire flock of ravens they were practicing on escaped to the Forbidden Forest where they only had to worry about centaurs, rather than annoying young humans with wands).
Up in the Divination Tower, Sibyl Trelawny preened over her foresight to have warned her students of an unprecedented catastrophe likely to occur before the hour was out.
Out in Greenhouse Five, a NEWT-level Herbology class looked up in puzzlement, and most of them were subsequently bitten by the Venomous Tentaculae they were attempting to propagate. It does not do to ignore a Venomous Tentacula when you’re prodding at its intimate parts with a cotton ball held in tweezers, so the class was cancelled while two-thirds of the students headed for the infirmary and the rest of them headed into the castle because if they stayed with the Venomous Tentaculae they’d be outnumbered, and nobody wants that.
And down in the dungeons, Professor Snape turned away from comparing Lee Jordan’s Pepper-Up Potion to spoiled cream at what sounded like a woman screaming from the entrance hall. At the second scream, he ordered the class to remain where they were and behave, sweeping out of the room just in time to miss Theodore Nott suddenly jumping up and yelping as if someone had put a crocodile heart down the back of his robes.
Fred Weasley stepped back from the unfortunate Slytherin, shared a smirk with his twin, and stuck his head out the door to make sure Snape had rounded the corner before leading the way out of the classroom.
-
Back in the Transfiguration classroom, about four minutes ago, it had started innocently enough. Ron Weasley, possessed of a broken wand and a lurking suspicion that most of the family’s magical talent had been soaked up by his siblings before he was around to get any, had attempted to turn his pet rat, Scabbers, into a teacup.
Scabbers had not become a teacup.
Scabbers, blast his useless furry little backside, had become a furry, vaguely teacup-shaped monstrosity out of which absolutely no one would have been tempted to drink, and to make matters worse, he still had a tail.
It was moving.
Harry was hiding a smile behind his hand. Dean and Seamus weren’t even trying to hide, elbowing each other and laughing. Parvati and Lavender were looking with disgust and horror at either Scabbers or him, and Hermione was opening her mouth, no doubt ready to tell him exactly what he’d done wrong.
Which only made it worse that he really thought he’d done everything right this time.
He snatched Scabbers off the desk (eww, the base of the cup had the same texture as rat feet) and turned away from Hermione. He made the wand movement again, picturing in his mind the way McGonagall had demonstrated it. “Erreverto.”
“Erreverto. Erreverto. Erreverto.”
It didn’t work. It didn’t work when Professor McGonagall stopped by and gave Hermione two points for Gryffindor for getting the spell perfect in both directions. It didn’t work when Harry made his successful transfiguration (Ron looked; the pattern was a little bit furry but it was definitely a teacup). Ron’s lips formed the shape of a word that would’ve made his mother box his ears had she heard it and attempted the reverse transfiguration, which didn’t work either.
Finally, faced not only with the indignity of failure but the threat of Scabbers being stuck like that, he’d gone up to Professor McGonagall’s desk.
“Um, Professor?”
Professor McGonagall looked up from the paper she was grading and looked from him to the squirming teacup. “Problems, Mr. Weasley?”
“Um, yeah, Professor. I can’t get it to work in either direction and it’s not fair to Scabbers to make him stay as a teacup just because I can’t do a spell right and can you maybe … ?”
“I suppose so, Mr. Weasley,” she said, and waved her wand in the exact manner Ron had been doing all along.
Nothing happened.
Professor McGonagall looked very, very puzzled.
“Now that’s odd,” she said softly.
As one, the other students rose from their seats and quietly moved closer.
She did not attempt the transfiguration in the other direction. Instead, she made a complex motion with her wand and murmured an incantation that possibly only Hermione recognized. The teacup squeaked. Professor McGonagall looked more puzzled than ever, and made a sweeping wand movement that ended with a sharp jab and uttered, “Arcanum finite!”
And there was a loud bang, and there was a pale, pudgy, and very naked man sprawled out on her desk, and she jumped back hard enough to knock her chair into the wall and screamed.
-
Having taught a particularly rigorous course of magical study to children and teens for quite some time now, Minerva McGonagall had become accustomed to certain things. Students who didn’t listen. Students who did rude things to the mice when they thought she wasn’t looking. Students who accidentally turned a frog or a raven into a flock of starlings or a school of strange slimy South American fish (and tried to solve the immediate problem by filling the classroom with two feet of water, neglecting to consider the gap under the door). Students who tried to transfigure their noses into a more appealing shape and wound up in the hospital wing regrowing their nostrils.
Naked men on her desk was something Minerva McGonagall had never had an occasion to get used to. What made it worse was that she recognized this one, and he’d been dead for more than a decade.
Inferius! was her first thought, followed shortly thereafter by Animagus, which collided with Peter Pettigrew! and produced the utterly horrifying thought of what if all four of them were Animagi? which didn’t bear thinking about at all, so her brain jumped to if he wasn’t killed by a Dark Wizard then why didn’t he say so? and realized there was only one possible explanation why, and about that time her eyes registered that parts of Peter Pettigrew she really doesn’t want to know about were flopping about in front of her face, and she was screaming as she jumped back.
The flow of invective which followed somehow failed to surprise her one bit. Some part of her registered, peripherally, the shocked faces of her students, but most of her attention was directed at Peter Pettigrew, who at very least faked his own death and at worst framed Sirius Black and if Black didn’t betray the Potters then who … did. And the words poured out of her, filthy English and filthier Latin while Pettigrew squirmed on the table, his face rage and guilt and fear and something shifty and contemptible, and he turned to look at the stunned students and lunged for Ron Weasley’s wand.
-
Severus Snape had reached the Entrance Hall by the time the scream died away and the invective replaced it. He almost smirked, amid the alarm; of all the things he’d never expected to hear from Minerva McGonagall … he took the stairs two at a time, still not noticing the students who followed.
He did notice the Herbology class, which had stopped on the way to the Infirmary and were staring transfixed in the direction of the Transfiguration classroom, but pushed his way through them, getting Venomous Tentacula pollen all over his robes in the process.
From the other end of the corridor came Professor Flitwick’s Charms class, with Professor Flitwick bringing up the rear and pushing his way between students.
-
Ron looked stunned as the man who’d been his pet rat snatched the wand from his hand; Professor McGonagal’s expression shifted to one beyond fury and when the entire class recoiled, it wasn’t from the naked man with the wand.
“Laedo!“ Minerva McGonagall roared.
-
Ron Weasley’s wand cast a Splintering Curse many years beyond its rightful owner’s abilities, and it did Peter Pettigrew the poor favor of eliminating the door, which might have slowed him down a bit.
-
Severus Snape flailed and skidded to a halt as the Transfiguration classroom’s door shattered. He stepped back just in time, and stared, jaw dropped in shock, as a naked man he recognized from his school days flew past him and bellyflopped against the wall, bounced, and collapsed to the ground just in time to avoid the “Exitium!” which followed and vaporized an impresive chunk of the castle’s stone wall.
Fred and George and Lee Jordan, determined to stay at the front of the crowd, had been pushed almost against Professor Snape by their fellow Potions classmates and some pollen-coated Hufflepuffs. Fred squirmed aside hastily as Professor McGonagall appeared in the doorway, the look on her face so utterly livid that Professors Snape and Flitwick both reflexively stepped back.
Snape tripped over George’s foot and fell against a knot of Hufflepuffs, releasing another cloud of pollen and knocking them backwards. Pettigrew saw his opportunity and took it, scrambling to his feet, stumbling sideways, and launching himself towards the gap.
And Minerva McGonagall made a thrust with her wand and said, “Perdo.”
In the very loud silence which followed, Filius Flitwick squeaked, “The Splinching Charm, Minerva?”
She might’ve looked embarrassed for a moment, and then she smiled as she looked down at Pettigrew, who lay on his belly, his arms and legs lying akimbo some distance away.
“Unorthodox,” she said, “but useful in a pinch. If someone would inform the Headmaster, and send an owl to the Ministry—-not Fudge, not Crouch, someone competent—-Shacklebolt, perhaps. Students, return to your classrooms, please. Mr. Weasley, I’m very sorry, but I do believe it’s impossible to return you your rat. However, the zero I was going to have to give you for the day’s work is entirely undeserved, as you were not transfiguring a normal rat. You may make the lesson up any time this week.”
-
The story was, of course, much embellished by the time it reached all the students. Versions of it had the intruder peppering Snape with a Glitter Hex or transfiguring Ron’s rat into a pair of boxers, and people had to be disabused of the notion that it had been Voldemort who’d been hiding as a rat all this time.
Snape gave both Weasley twins detention for tripping him, and took forty-seven points total from Gryffindor over the next few weeks for various pretend-subtle pollen references.
Kingsley Shacklebolt showed up with a team of Aurors in time to meet Professor Dumbledore; the Wizengamot launched an investigation into the events surrounding the Potters’ murder; the results turned into a scandal which saw the release of Sirius Black and the forced resignation of both Director Bartemious Crouch and Minister Cornelius Fudge. Director of Magical Law Enforcement Amelia Bones was confirmed as Minister of Magic shortly thereafte, and the Daily Prophet reported that Sirius Black (“Godfather to the Boy-Who-Lived!” “Framed, Abandoned, Condemned to Living Hell!” “Heart-Wrenching: His Release In Pictures, Page 17!”) was considering applying for a teaching position at Hogwarts, “but just for a year, I’ve been cursed enough for one lifetime.” (“The Prophet reminds its readers that the so-called “curse” on a certain Hogwarts teaching position is almost certainly a mere string of coincidences.”)
And, Minerva thought with relish some months later, it was almost three weeks before anyone attempted messing around in her class.
A personal record.

I’ve probably reblogged this before but I’m going to do it again right now

I think this is literally the best au this entire fandom has produced

I’ve only seen this legendary bit of writing in memes and screenshots. I feel so blessed to see it in person.

Beautiful, simply beautiful!

Reblogging my own post because a) it’s my damn horn and I’ll blow it if I want to, and b) I just (finally!) cross-posted this to Archive Of Our Own, so if anybody wants to go read it over there, here it is.


@deadcatwithaflamethrower 
My only complaint is that Theodore Nott and Fred Weasely wouldn’t be in the same Potions class. *is pedantic*

*reblogging because now you can bookmark it on AO3*: deadcatwithaflamethrower:

hebic:
kyraneko:

balencia:

kitrazzle:

pissedoffweasley:

wizardingheadcanon:

kyraneko:

elidyce:

thatgirlonstage:

fuckyeahdeathlyhallows:

sirlestrange:

#that is a human as a rat as a cup

That was a long 12 years for Wormtail.

Can you imagine how differently their lives would’ve gone if Ron, in trying to transfigure Scabbers, had actually transfigured him back into a human?Just take a moment to imagine McGonagall’s reaction if Peter Pettigrew had abruptly appeared in her classroom from Ronald Weasley’s rat.Take a moment.

Or if Ron had fucked it up a little worse and couldn’t get ‘Scabbers’ back and McGonagall had take him to disenchant him and next thing we know there’s a naked Peter Pettigrew sitting on McGonagall’s desk and the kids in that class learn six new swear words, a hex they will never dare to use, and a fear of Minerva McGonagall’s wrath that will be with them until the day they die.
Ten and twenty years later first years are being pulled aside and warned never mess around in Transfiguration seriously the last time a kid mucked something up in that class Professor McGonagall used two semi-legal hexes, took down a Death Eater and sabotaged the rise of the Dark Lord before Potter had time to get his wand out.

What most of Hogwarts learned first on that otherwise-unexceptionable day was that Professor McGonagall could sure scream loud.
Professor Flitwick’s Charms 5th-year Charms class was close enough to catch the full effect, and the door had been left open besides; en masse the students recoiled with shock and a miscast Hiccuping Charm broke one of the windows (out which the entire flock of ravens they were practicing on escaped to the Forbidden Forest where they only had to worry about centaurs, rather than annoying young humans with wands).
Up in the Divination Tower, Sibyl Trelawny preened over her foresight to have warned her students of an unprecedented catastrophe likely to occur before the hour was out.
Out in Greenhouse Five, a NEWT-level Herbology class looked up in puzzlement, and most of them were subsequently bitten by the Venomous Tentaculae they were attempting to propagate. It does not do to ignore a Venomous Tentacula when you’re prodding at its intimate parts with a cotton ball held in tweezers, so the class was cancelled while two-thirds of the students headed for the infirmary and the rest of them headed into the castle because if they stayed with the Venomous Tentaculae they’d be outnumbered, and nobody wants that.
And down in the dungeons, Professor Snape turned away from comparing Lee Jordan’s Pepper-Up Potion to spoiled cream at what sounded like a woman screaming from the entrance hall. At the second scream, he ordered the class to remain where they were and behave, sweeping out of the room just in time to miss Theodore Nott suddenly jumping up and yelping as if someone had put a crocodile heart down the back of his robes.
Fred Weasley stepped back from the unfortunate Slytherin, shared a smirk with his twin, and stuck his head out the door to make sure Snape had rounded the corner before leading the way out of the classroom.
-
Back in the Transfiguration classroom, about four minutes ago, it had started innocently enough. Ron Weasley, possessed of a broken wand and a lurking suspicion that most of the family’s magical talent had been soaked up by his siblings before he was around to get any, had attempted to turn his pet rat, Scabbers, into a teacup.
Scabbers had not become a teacup.
Scabbers, blast his useless furry little backside, had become a furry, vaguely teacup-shaped monstrosity out of which absolutely no one would have been tempted to drink, and to make matters worse, he still had a tail.
It was moving.
Harry was hiding a smile behind his hand. Dean and Seamus weren’t even trying to hide, elbowing each other and laughing. Parvati and Lavender were looking with disgust and horror at either Scabbers or him, and Hermione was opening her mouth, no doubt ready to tell him exactly what he’d done wrong.
Which only made it worse that he really thought he’d done everything right this time.
He snatched Scabbers off the desk (eww, the base of the cup had the same texture as rat feet) and turned away from Hermione. He made the wand movement again, picturing in his mind the way McGonagall had demonstrated it. “Erreverto.”
“Erreverto. Erreverto. Erreverto.”
It didn’t work. It didn’t work when Professor McGonagall stopped by and gave Hermione two points for Gryffindor for getting the spell perfect in both directions. It didn’t work when Harry made his successful transfiguration (Ron looked; the pattern was a little bit furry but it was definitely a teacup). Ron’s lips formed the shape of a word that would’ve made his mother box his ears had she heard it and attempted the reverse transfiguration, which didn’t work either.
Finally, faced not only with the indignity of failure but the threat of Scabbers being stuck like that, he’d gone up to Professor McGonagall’s desk.
“Um, Professor?”
Professor McGonagall looked up from the paper she was grading and looked from him to the squirming teacup. “Problems, Mr. Weasley?”
“Um, yeah, Professor. I can’t get it to work in either direction and it’s not fair to Scabbers to make him stay as a teacup just because I can’t do a spell right and can you maybe … ?”
“I suppose so, Mr. Weasley,” she said, and waved her wand in the exact manner Ron had been doing all along.
Nothing happened.
Professor McGonagall looked very, very puzzled.
“Now that’s odd,” she said softly.
As one, the other students rose from their seats and quietly moved closer.
She did not attempt the transfiguration in the other direction. Instead, she made a complex motion with her wand and murmured an incantation that possibly only Hermione recognized. The teacup squeaked. Professor McGonagall looked more puzzled than ever, and made a sweeping wand movement that ended with a sharp jab and uttered, “Arcanum finite!”
And there was a loud bang, and there was a pale, pudgy, and very naked man sprawled out on her desk, and she jumped back hard enough to knock her chair into the wall and screamed.
-
Having taught a particularly rigorous course of magical study to children and teens for quite some time now, Minerva McGonagall had become accustomed to certain things. Students who didn’t listen. Students who did rude things to the mice when they thought she wasn’t looking. Students who accidentally turned a frog or a raven into a flock of starlings or a school of strange slimy South American fish (and tried to solve the immediate problem by filling the classroom with two feet of water, neglecting to consider the gap under the door). Students who tried to transfigure their noses into a more appealing shape and wound up in the hospital wing regrowing their nostrils.
Naked men on her desk was something Minerva McGonagall had never had an occasion to get used to. What made it worse was that she recognized this one, and he’d been dead for more than a decade.
Inferius! was her first thought, followed shortly thereafter by Animagus, which collided with Peter Pettigrew! and produced the utterly horrifying thought of what if all four of them were Animagi? which didn’t bear thinking about at all, so her brain jumped to if he wasn’t killed by a Dark Wizard then why didn’t he say so? and realized there was only one possible explanation why, and about that time her eyes registered that parts of Peter Pettigrew she really doesn’t want to know about were flopping about in front of her face, and she was screaming as she jumped back.
The flow of invective which followed somehow failed to surprise her one bit. Some part of her registered, peripherally, the shocked faces of her students, but most of her attention was directed at Peter Pettigrew, who at very least faked his own death and at worst framed Sirius Black and if Black didn’t betray the Potters then who … did. And the words poured out of her, filthy English and filthier Latin while Pettigrew squirmed on the table, his face rage and guilt and fear and something shifty and contemptible, and he turned to look at the stunned students and lunged for Ron Weasley’s wand.
-
Severus Snape had reached the Entrance Hall by the time the scream died away and the invective replaced it. He almost smirked, amid the alarm; of all the things he’d never expected to hear from Minerva McGonagall … he took the stairs two at a time, still not noticing the students who followed.
He did notice the Herbology class, which had stopped on the way to the Infirmary and were staring transfixed in the direction of the Transfiguration classroom, but pushed his way through them, getting Venomous Tentacula pollen all over his robes in the process.
From the other end of the corridor came Professor Flitwick’s Charms class, with Professor Flitwick bringing up the rear and pushing his way between students.
-
Ron looked stunned as the man who’d been his pet rat snatched the wand from his hand; Professor McGonagal’s expression shifted to one beyond fury and when the entire class recoiled, it wasn’t from the naked man with the wand.
“Laedo!“ Minerva McGonagall roared.
-
Ron Weasley’s wand cast a Splintering Curse many years beyond its rightful owner’s abilities, and it did Peter Pettigrew the poor favor of eliminating the door, which might have slowed him down a bit.
-
Severus Snape flailed and skidded to a halt as the Transfiguration classroom’s door shattered. He stepped back just in time, and stared, jaw dropped in shock, as a naked man he recognized from his school days flew past him and bellyflopped against the wall, bounced, and collapsed to the ground just in time to avoid the “Exitium!” which followed and vaporized an impresive chunk of the castle’s stone wall.
Fred and George and Lee Jordan, determined to stay at the front of the crowd, had been pushed almost against Professor Snape by their fellow Potions classmates and some pollen-coated Hufflepuffs. Fred squirmed aside hastily as Professor McGonagall appeared in the doorway, the look on her face so utterly livid that Professors Snape and Flitwick both reflexively stepped back.
Snape tripped over George’s foot and fell against a knot of Hufflepuffs, releasing another cloud of pollen and knocking them backwards. Pettigrew saw his opportunity and took it, scrambling to his feet, stumbling sideways, and launching himself towards the gap.
And Minerva McGonagall made a thrust with her wand and said, “Perdo.”
In the very loud silence which followed, Filius Flitwick squeaked, “The Splinching Charm, Minerva?”
She might’ve looked embarrassed for a moment, and then she smiled as she looked down at Pettigrew, who lay on his belly, his arms and legs lying akimbo some distance away.
“Unorthodox,” she said, “but useful in a pinch. If someone would inform the Headmaster, and send an owl to the Ministry—-not Fudge, not Crouch, someone competent—-Shacklebolt, perhaps. Students, return to your classrooms, please. Mr. Weasley, I’m very sorry, but I do believe it’s impossible to return you your rat. However, the zero I was going to have to give you for the day’s work is entirely undeserved, as you were not transfiguring a normal rat. You may make the lesson up any time this week.”
-
The story was, of course, much embellished by the time it reached all the students. Versions of it had the intruder peppering Snape with a Glitter Hex or transfiguring Ron’s rat into a pair of boxers, and people had to be disabused of the notion that it had been Voldemort who’d been hiding as a rat all this time.
Snape gave both Weasley twins detention for tripping him, and took forty-seven points total from Gryffindor over the next few weeks for various pretend-subtle pollen references.
Kingsley Shacklebolt showed up with a team of Aurors in time to meet Professor Dumbledore; the Wizengamot launched an investigation into the events surrounding the Potters’ murder; the results turned into a scandal which saw the release of Sirius Black and the forced resignation of both Director Bartemious Crouch and Minister Cornelius Fudge. Director of Magical Law Enforcement Amelia Bones was confirmed as Minister of Magic shortly thereafte, and the Daily Prophet reported that Sirius Black (“Godfather to the Boy-Who-Lived!” “Framed, Abandoned, Condemned to Living Hell!” “Heart-Wrenching: His Release In Pictures, Page 17!”) was considering applying for a teaching position at Hogwarts, “but just for a year, I’ve been cursed enough for one lifetime.” (“The Prophet reminds its readers that the so-called “curse” on a certain Hogwarts teaching position is almost certainly a mere string of coincidences.”)
And, Minerva thought with relish some months later, it was almost three weeks before anyone attempted messing around in her class.
A personal record.

I’ve probably reblogged this before but I’m going to do it again right now

I think this is literally the best au this entire fandom has produced

I’ve only seen this legendary bit of writing in memes and screenshots. I feel so blessed to see it in person.

Beautiful, simply beautiful!

Reblogging my own post because a) it’s my damn horn and I’ll blow it if I want to, and b) I just (finally!) cross-posted this to Archive Of Our Own, so if anybody wants to go read it over there, here it is.


@deadcatwithaflamethrower 
My only complaint is that Theodore Nott and Fred Weasely wouldn’t be in the same Potions class. *is pedantic*

*reblogging because now you can bookmark it on AO3*
        

            
            

                
                
                    deadcatwithaflamethrower:

hebic:
kyraneko:

balencia:

kitrazzle:

pissedoffweasley:

wizardingheadcanon:

kyraneko:

elidyce:

thatgirlonstage:

fuckyeahdeathlyhallows:

sirlestrange:

#that is a human as a rat as a cup

That was a long 12 years for Wormtail.

Can you imagine how differently their lives would’ve gone if Ron, in trying to transfigure Scabbers, had actually transfigured him back into a human?Just take a moment to imagine McGonagall’s reaction if Peter Pettigrew had abruptly appeared in her classroom from Ronald Weasley’s rat.Take a moment.

Or if Ron had fucked it up a little worse and couldn’t get ‘Scabbers’ back and McGonagall had take him to disenchant him and next thing we know there’s a naked Peter Pettigrew sitting on McGonagall’s desk and the kids in that class learn six new swear words, a hex they will never dare to use, and a fear of Minerva McGonagall’s wrath that will be with them until the day they die.
Ten and twenty years later first years are being pulled aside and warned never mess around in Transfiguration seriously the last time a kid mucked something up in that class Professor McGonagall used two semi-legal hexes, took down a Death Eater and sabotaged the rise of the Dark Lord before Potter had time to get his wand out.

What most of Hogwarts learned first on that otherwise-unexceptionable day was that Professor McGonagall could sure scream loud.
Professor Flitwick’s Charms 5th-year Charms class was close enough to catch the full effect, and the door had been left open besides; en masse the students recoiled with shock and a miscast Hiccuping Charm broke one of the windows (out which the entire flock of ravens they were practicing on escaped to the Forbidden Forest where they only had to worry about centaurs, rather than annoying young humans with wands).
Up in the Divination Tower, Sibyl Trelawny preened over her foresight to have warned her students of an unprecedented catastrophe likely to occur before the hour was out.
Out in Greenhouse Five, a NEWT-level Herbology class looked up in puzzlement, and most of them were subsequently bitten by the Venomous Tentaculae they were attempting to propagate. It does not do to ignore a Venomous Tentacula when you’re prodding at its intimate parts with a cotton ball held in tweezers, so the class was cancelled while two-thirds of the students headed for the infirmary and the rest of them headed into the castle because if they stayed with the Venomous Tentaculae they’d be outnumbered, and nobody wants that.
And down in the dungeons, Professor Snape turned away from comparing Lee Jordan’s Pepper-Up Potion to spoiled cream at what sounded like a woman screaming from the entrance hall. At the second scream, he ordered the class to remain where they were and behave, sweeping out of the room just in time to miss Theodore Nott suddenly jumping up and yelping as if someone had put a crocodile heart down the back of his robes.
Fred Weasley stepped back from the unfortunate Slytherin, shared a smirk with his twin, and stuck his head out the door to make sure Snape had rounded the corner before leading the way out of the classroom.
-
Back in the Transfiguration classroom, about four minutes ago, it had started innocently enough. Ron Weasley, possessed of a broken wand and a lurking suspicion that most of the family’s magical talent had been soaked up by his siblings before he was around to get any, had attempted to turn his pet rat, Scabbers, into a teacup.
Scabbers had not become a teacup.
Scabbers, blast his useless furry little backside, had become a furry, vaguely teacup-shaped monstrosity out of which absolutely no one would have been tempted to drink, and to make matters worse, he still had a tail.
It was moving.
Harry was hiding a smile behind his hand. Dean and Seamus weren’t even trying to hide, elbowing each other and laughing. Parvati and Lavender were looking with disgust and horror at either Scabbers or him, and Hermione was opening her mouth, no doubt ready to tell him exactly what he’d done wrong.
Which only made it worse that he really thought he’d done everything right this time.
He snatched Scabbers off the desk (eww, the base of the cup had the same texture as rat feet) and turned away from Hermione. He made the wand movement again, picturing in his mind the way McGonagall had demonstrated it. “Erreverto.”
“Erreverto. Erreverto. Erreverto.”
It didn’t work. It didn’t work when Professor McGonagall stopped by and gave Hermione two points for Gryffindor for getting the spell perfect in both directions. It didn’t work when Harry made his successful transfiguration (Ron looked; the pattern was a little bit furry but it was definitely a teacup). Ron’s lips formed the shape of a word that would’ve made his mother box his ears had she heard it and attempted the reverse transfiguration, which didn’t work either.
Finally, faced not only with the indignity of failure but the threat of Scabbers being stuck like that, he’d gone up to Professor McGonagall’s desk.
“Um, Professor?”
Professor McGonagall looked up from the paper she was grading and looked from him to the squirming teacup. “Problems, Mr. Weasley?”
“Um, yeah, Professor. I can’t get it to work in either direction and it’s not fair to Scabbers to make him stay as a teacup just because I can’t do a spell right and can you maybe … ?”
“I suppose so, Mr. Weasley,” she said, and waved her wand in the exact manner Ron had been doing all along.
Nothing happened.
Professor McGonagall looked very, very puzzled.
“Now that’s odd,” she said softly.
As one, the other students rose from their seats and quietly moved closer.
She did not attempt the transfiguration in the other direction. Instead, she made a complex motion with her wand and murmured an incantation that possibly only Hermione recognized. The teacup squeaked. Professor McGonagall looked more puzzled than ever, and made a sweeping wand movement that ended with a sharp jab and uttered, “Arcanum finite!”
And there was a loud bang, and there was a pale, pudgy, and very naked man sprawled out on her desk, and she jumped back hard enough to knock her chair into the wall and screamed.
-
Having taught a particularly rigorous course of magical study to children and teens for quite some time now, Minerva McGonagall had become accustomed to certain things. Students who didn’t listen. Students who did rude things to the mice when they thought she wasn’t looking. Students who accidentally turned a frog or a raven into a flock of starlings or a school of strange slimy South American fish (and tried to solve the immediate problem by filling the classroom with two feet of water, neglecting to consider the gap under the door). Students who tried to transfigure their noses into a more appealing shape and wound up in the hospital wing regrowing their nostrils.
Naked men on her desk was something Minerva McGonagall had never had an occasion to get used to. What made it worse was that she recognized this one, and he’d been dead for more than a decade.
Inferius! was her first thought, followed shortly thereafter by Animagus, which collided with Peter Pettigrew! and produced the utterly horrifying thought of what if all four of them were Animagi? which didn’t bear thinking about at all, so her brain jumped to if he wasn’t killed by a Dark Wizard then why didn’t he say so? and realized there was only one possible explanation why, and about that time her eyes registered that parts of Peter Pettigrew she really doesn’t want to know about were flopping about in front of her face, and she was screaming as she jumped back.
The flow of invective which followed somehow failed to surprise her one bit. Some part of her registered, peripherally, the shocked faces of her students, but most of her attention was directed at Peter Pettigrew, who at very least faked his own death and at worst framed Sirius Black and if Black didn’t betray the Potters then who … did. And the words poured out of her, filthy English and filthier Latin while Pettigrew squirmed on the table, his face rage and guilt and fear and something shifty and contemptible, and he turned to look at the stunned students and lunged for Ron Weasley’s wand.
-
Severus Snape had reached the Entrance Hall by the time the scream died away and the invective replaced it. He almost smirked, amid the alarm; of all the things he’d never expected to hear from Minerva McGonagall … he took the stairs two at a time, still not noticing the students who followed.
He did notice the Herbology class, which had stopped on the way to the Infirmary and were staring transfixed in the direction of the Transfiguration classroom, but pushed his way through them, getting Venomous Tentacula pollen all over his robes in the process.
From the other end of the corridor came Professor Flitwick’s Charms class, with Professor Flitwick bringing up the rear and pushing his way between students.
-
Ron looked stunned as the man who’d been his pet rat snatched the wand from his hand; Professor McGonagal’s expression shifted to one beyond fury and when the entire class recoiled, it wasn’t from the naked man with the wand.
“Laedo!“ Minerva McGonagall roared.
-
Ron Weasley’s wand cast a Splintering Curse many years beyond its rightful owner’s abilities, and it did Peter Pettigrew the poor favor of eliminating the door, which might have slowed him down a bit.
-
Severus Snape flailed and skidded to a halt as the Transfiguration classroom’s door shattered. He stepped back just in time, and stared, jaw dropped in shock, as a naked man he recognized from his school days flew past him and bellyflopped against the wall, bounced, and collapsed to the ground just in time to avoid the “Exitium!” which followed and vaporized an impresive chunk of the castle’s stone wall.
Fred and George and Lee Jordan, determined to stay at the front of the crowd, had been pushed almost against Professor Snape by their fellow Potions classmates and some pollen-coated Hufflepuffs. Fred squirmed aside hastily as Professor McGonagall appeared in the doorway, the look on her face so utterly livid that Professors Snape and Flitwick both reflexively stepped back.
Snape tripped over George’s foot and fell against a knot of Hufflepuffs, releasing another cloud of pollen and knocking them backwards. Pettigrew saw his opportunity and took it, scrambling to his feet, stumbling sideways, and launching himself towards the gap.
And Minerva McGonagall made a thrust with her wand and said, “Perdo.”
In the very loud silence which followed, Filius Flitwick squeaked, “The Splinching Charm, Minerva?”
She might’ve looked embarrassed for a moment, and then she smiled as she looked down at Pettigrew, who lay on his belly, his arms and legs lying akimbo some distance away.
“Unorthodox,” she said, “but useful in a pinch. If someone would inform the Headmaster, and send an owl to the Ministry—-not Fudge, not Crouch, someone competent—-Shacklebolt, perhaps. Students, return to your classrooms, please. Mr. Weasley, I’m very sorry, but I do believe it’s impossible to return you your rat. However, the zero I was going to have to give you for the day’s work is entirely undeserved, as you were not transfiguring a normal rat. You may make the lesson up any time this week.”
-
The story was, of course, much embellished by the time it reached all the students. Versions of it had the intruder peppering Snape with a Glitter Hex or transfiguring Ron’s rat into a pair of boxers, and people had to be disabused of the notion that it had been Voldemort who’d been hiding as a rat all this time.
Snape gave both Weasley twins detention for tripping him, and took forty-seven points total from Gryffindor over the next few weeks for various pretend-subtle pollen references.
Kingsley Shacklebolt showed up with a team of Aurors in time to meet Professor Dumbledore; the Wizengamot launched an investigation into the events surrounding the Potters’ murder; the results turned into a scandal which saw the release of Sirius Black and the forced resignation of both Director Bartemious Crouch and Minister Cornelius Fudge. Director of Magical Law Enforcement Amelia Bones was confirmed as Minister of Magic shortly thereafte, and the Daily Prophet reported that Sirius Black (“Godfather to the Boy-Who-Lived!” “Framed, Abandoned, Condemned to Living Hell!” “Heart-Wrenching: His Release In Pictures, Page 17!”) was considering applying for a teaching position at Hogwarts, “but just for a year, I’ve been cursed enough for one lifetime.” (“The Prophet reminds its readers that the so-called “curse” on a certain Hogwarts teaching position is almost certainly a mere string of coincidences.”)
And, Minerva thought with relish some months later, it was almost three weeks before anyone attempted messing around in her class.
A personal record.

I’ve probably reblogged this before but I’m going to do it again right now

I think this is literally the best au this entire fandom has produced

I’ve only seen this legendary bit of writing in memes and screenshots. I feel so blessed to see it in person.

Beautiful, simply beautiful!

Reblogging my own post because a) it’s my damn horn and I’ll blow it if I want to, and b) I just (finally!) cross-posted this to Archive Of Our Own, so if anybody wants to go read it over there, here it is.


@deadcatwithaflamethrower 
My only complaint is that Theodore Nott and Fred Weasely wouldn’t be in the same Potions class. *is pedantic*

*reblogging because now you can bookmark it on AO3*: deadcatwithaflamethrower:

hebic:
kyraneko:

balencia:

kitrazzle:

pissedoffweasley:

wizardingheadcanon:

kyraneko:

elidyce:

thatgirlonstage:

fuckyeahdeathlyhallows:

sirlestrange:

#that is a human as a rat as a cup

That was a long 12 years for Wormtail.

Can you imagine how differently their lives would’ve gone if Ron, in trying to transfigure Scabbers, had actually transfigured him back into a human?Just take a moment to imagine McGonagall’s reaction if Peter Pettigrew had abruptly appeared in her classroom from Ronald Weasley’s rat.Take a moment.

Or if Ron had fucked it up a little worse and couldn’t get ‘Scabbers’ back and McGonagall had take him to disenchant him and next thing we know there’s a naked Peter Pettigrew sitting on McGonagall’s desk and the kids in that class learn six new swear words, a hex they will never dare to use, and a fear of Minerva McGonagall’s wrath that will be with them until the day they die.
Ten and twenty years later first years are being pulled aside and warned never mess around in Transfiguration seriously the last time a kid mucked something up in that class Professor McGonagall used two semi-legal hexes, took down a Death Eater and sabotaged the rise of the Dark Lord before Potter had time to get his wand out.

What most of Hogwarts learned first on that otherwise-unexceptionable day was that Professor McGonagall could sure scream loud.
Professor Flitwick’s Charms 5th-year Charms class was close enough to catch the full effect, and the door had been left open besides; en masse the students recoiled with shock and a miscast Hiccuping Charm broke one of the windows (out which the entire flock of ravens they were practicing on escaped to the Forbidden Forest where they only had to worry about centaurs, rather than annoying young humans with wands).
Up in the Divination Tower, Sibyl Trelawny preened over her foresight to have warned her students of an unprecedented catastrophe likely to occur before the hour was out.
Out in Greenhouse Five, a NEWT-level Herbology class looked up in puzzlement, and most of them were subsequently bitten by the Venomous Tentaculae they were attempting to propagate. It does not do to ignore a Venomous Tentacula when you’re prodding at its intimate parts with a cotton ball held in tweezers, so the class was cancelled while two-thirds of the students headed for the infirmary and the rest of them headed into the castle because if they stayed with the Venomous Tentaculae they’d be outnumbered, and nobody wants that.
And down in the dungeons, Professor Snape turned away from comparing Lee Jordan’s Pepper-Up Potion to spoiled cream at what sounded like a woman screaming from the entrance hall. At the second scream, he ordered the class to remain where they were and behave, sweeping out of the room just in time to miss Theodore Nott suddenly jumping up and yelping as if someone had put a crocodile heart down the back of his robes.
Fred Weasley stepped back from the unfortunate Slytherin, shared a smirk with his twin, and stuck his head out the door to make sure Snape had rounded the corner before leading the way out of the classroom.
-
Back in the Transfiguration classroom, about four minutes ago, it had started innocently enough. Ron Weasley, possessed of a broken wand and a lurking suspicion that most of the family’s magical talent had been soaked up by his siblings before he was around to get any, had attempted to turn his pet rat, Scabbers, into a teacup.
Scabbers had not become a teacup.
Scabbers, blast his useless furry little backside, had become a furry, vaguely teacup-shaped monstrosity out of which absolutely no one would have been tempted to drink, and to make matters worse, he still had a tail.
It was moving.
Harry was hiding a smile behind his hand. Dean and Seamus weren’t even trying to hide, elbowing each other and laughing. Parvati and Lavender were looking with disgust and horror at either Scabbers or him, and Hermione was opening her mouth, no doubt ready to tell him exactly what he’d done wrong.
Which only made it worse that he really thought he’d done everything right this time.
He snatched Scabbers off the desk (eww, the base of the cup had the same texture as rat feet) and turned away from Hermione. He made the wand movement again, picturing in his mind the way McGonagall had demonstrated it. “Erreverto.”
“Erreverto. Erreverto. Erreverto.”
It didn’t work. It didn’t work when Professor McGonagall stopped by and gave Hermione two points for Gryffindor for getting the spell perfect in both directions. It didn’t work when Harry made his successful transfiguration (Ron looked; the pattern was a little bit furry but it was definitely a teacup). Ron’s lips formed the shape of a word that would’ve made his mother box his ears had she heard it and attempted the reverse transfiguration, which didn’t work either.
Finally, faced not only with the indignity of failure but the threat of Scabbers being stuck like that, he’d gone up to Professor McGonagall’s desk.
“Um, Professor?”
Professor McGonagall looked up from the paper she was grading and looked from him to the squirming teacup. “Problems, Mr. Weasley?”
“Um, yeah, Professor. I can’t get it to work in either direction and it’s not fair to Scabbers to make him stay as a teacup just because I can’t do a spell right and can you maybe … ?”
“I suppose so, Mr. Weasley,” she said, and waved her wand in the exact manner Ron had been doing all along.
Nothing happened.
Professor McGonagall looked very, very puzzled.
“Now that’s odd,” she said softly.
As one, the other students rose from their seats and quietly moved closer.
She did not attempt the transfiguration in the other direction. Instead, she made a complex motion with her wand and murmured an incantation that possibly only Hermione recognized. The teacup squeaked. Professor McGonagall looked more puzzled than ever, and made a sweeping wand movement that ended with a sharp jab and uttered, “Arcanum finite!”
And there was a loud bang, and there was a pale, pudgy, and very naked man sprawled out on her desk, and she jumped back hard enough to knock her chair into the wall and screamed.
-
Having taught a particularly rigorous course of magical study to children and teens for quite some time now, Minerva McGonagall had become accustomed to certain things. Students who didn’t listen. Students who did rude things to the mice when they thought she wasn’t looking. Students who accidentally turned a frog or a raven into a flock of starlings or a school of strange slimy South American fish (and tried to solve the immediate problem by filling the classroom with two feet of water, neglecting to consider the gap under the door). Students who tried to transfigure their noses into a more appealing shape and wound up in the hospital wing regrowing their nostrils.
Naked men on her desk was something Minerva McGonagall had never had an occasion to get used to. What made it worse was that she recognized this one, and he’d been dead for more than a decade.
Inferius! was her first thought, followed shortly thereafter by Animagus, which collided with Peter Pettigrew! and produced the utterly horrifying thought of what if all four of them were Animagi? which didn’t bear thinking about at all, so her brain jumped to if he wasn’t killed by a Dark Wizard then why didn’t he say so? and realized there was only one possible explanation why, and about that time her eyes registered that parts of Peter Pettigrew she really doesn’t want to know about were flopping about in front of her face, and she was screaming as she jumped back.
The flow of invective which followed somehow failed to surprise her one bit. Some part of her registered, peripherally, the shocked faces of her students, but most of her attention was directed at Peter Pettigrew, who at very least faked his own death and at worst framed Sirius Black and if Black didn’t betray the Potters then who … did. And the words poured out of her, filthy English and filthier Latin while Pettigrew squirmed on the table, his face rage and guilt and fear and something shifty and contemptible, and he turned to look at the stunned students and lunged for Ron Weasley’s wand.
-
Severus Snape had reached the Entrance Hall by the time the scream died away and the invective replaced it. He almost smirked, amid the alarm; of all the things he’d never expected to hear from Minerva McGonagall … he took the stairs two at a time, still not noticing the students who followed.
He did notice the Herbology class, which had stopped on the way to the Infirmary and were staring transfixed in the direction of the Transfiguration classroom, but pushed his way through them, getting Venomous Tentacula pollen all over his robes in the process.
From the other end of the corridor came Professor Flitwick’s Charms class, with Professor Flitwick bringing up the rear and pushing his way between students.
-
Ron looked stunned as the man who’d been his pet rat snatched the wand from his hand; Professor McGonagal’s expression shifted to one beyond fury and when the entire class recoiled, it wasn’t from the naked man with the wand.
“Laedo!“ Minerva McGonagall roared.
-
Ron Weasley’s wand cast a Splintering Curse many years beyond its rightful owner’s abilities, and it did Peter Pettigrew the poor favor of eliminating the door, which might have slowed him down a bit.
-
Severus Snape flailed and skidded to a halt as the Transfiguration classroom’s door shattered. He stepped back just in time, and stared, jaw dropped in shock, as a naked man he recognized from his school days flew past him and bellyflopped against the wall, bounced, and collapsed to the ground just in time to avoid the “Exitium!” which followed and vaporized an impresive chunk of the castle’s stone wall.
Fred and George and Lee Jordan, determined to stay at the front of the crowd, had been pushed almost against Professor Snape by their fellow Potions classmates and some pollen-coated Hufflepuffs. Fred squirmed aside hastily as Professor McGonagall appeared in the doorway, the look on her face so utterly livid that Professors Snape and Flitwick both reflexively stepped back.
Snape tripped over George’s foot and fell against a knot of Hufflepuffs, releasing another cloud of pollen and knocking them backwards. Pettigrew saw his opportunity and took it, scrambling to his feet, stumbling sideways, and launching himself towards the gap.
And Minerva McGonagall made a thrust with her wand and said, “Perdo.”
In the very loud silence which followed, Filius Flitwick squeaked, “The Splinching Charm, Minerva?”
She might’ve looked embarrassed for a moment, and then she smiled as she looked down at Pettigrew, who lay on his belly, his arms and legs lying akimbo some distance away.
“Unorthodox,” she said, “but useful in a pinch. If someone would inform the Headmaster, and send an owl to the Ministry—-not Fudge, not Crouch, someone competent—-Shacklebolt, perhaps. Students, return to your classrooms, please. Mr. Weasley, I’m very sorry, but I do believe it’s impossible to return you your rat. However, the zero I was going to have to give you for the day’s work is entirely undeserved, as you were not transfiguring a normal rat. You may make the lesson up any time this week.”
-
The story was, of course, much embellished by the time it reached all the students. Versions of it had the intruder peppering Snape with a Glitter Hex or transfiguring Ron’s rat into a pair of boxers, and people had to be disabused of the notion that it had been Voldemort who’d been hiding as a rat all this time.
Snape gave both Weasley twins detention for tripping him, and took forty-seven points total from Gryffindor over the next few weeks for various pretend-subtle pollen references.
Kingsley Shacklebolt showed up with a team of Aurors in time to meet Professor Dumbledore; the Wizengamot launched an investigation into the events surrounding the Potters’ murder; the results turned into a scandal which saw the release of Sirius Black and the forced resignation of both Director Bartemious Crouch and Minister Cornelius Fudge. Director of Magical Law Enforcement Amelia Bones was confirmed as Minister of Magic shortly thereafte, and the Daily Prophet reported that Sirius Black (“Godfather to the Boy-Who-Lived!” “Framed, Abandoned, Condemned to Living Hell!” “Heart-Wrenching: His Release In Pictures, Page 17!”) was considering applying for a teaching position at Hogwarts, “but just for a year, I’ve been cursed enough for one lifetime.” (“The Prophet reminds its readers that the so-called “curse” on a certain Hogwarts teaching position is almost certainly a mere string of coincidences.”)
And, Minerva thought with relish some months later, it was almost three weeks before anyone attempted messing around in her class.
A personal record.

I’ve probably reblogged this before but I’m going to do it again right now

I think this is literally the best au this entire fandom has produced

I’ve only seen this legendary bit of writing in memes and screenshots. I feel so blessed to see it in person.

Beautiful, simply beautiful!

Reblogging my own post because a) it’s my damn horn and I’ll blow it if I want to, and b) I just (finally!) cross-posted this to Archive Of Our Own, so if anybody wants to go read it over there, here it is.


@deadcatwithaflamethrower 
My only complaint is that Theodore Nott and Fred Weasely wouldn’t be in the same Potions class. *is pedantic*

*reblogging because now you can bookmark it on AO3*
                    
                    

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
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        p-artsypants:
buttalicious602:

emotionalempowerer:
Please, reblog! IIt’s called self defense. Apart from having here, in the US, one of the highest cases of homicide and rape in the world and high rate of GBV, think about how this could help your mother or sister

Yes indeed#💯💯💯💯💯

Hey guys, as a blackbelt in Tae Kwon Do, I just want to say a few things:
1) Self defense is an amazing skill to learn, and this image set has some pretty good ideas. 
2) PLEASE don’t use your head unless absolutely necessary! You can hurt yourself worse than the attacker, and get in some really big trouble. The elbows and knees are super powerful weapons instead.
3) If you are trapped with your back against a body, and don’t have use of your arms, thrust your hips backwards as hard as you can into the groin. It’ll give you a chance to break away to use your elbow. Stomping on the foot can also help.
4) Don’t try to defeat the attacker. The second you’re free, RUN. Once you’re safe, call the police. You might want to feel like a superhero, but you could be overpowered again. Don’t take that risk. 
5) I also agree with the person who mentioned a closed fist punch against a jaw is a bad idea. You can break your knuckles. Instead, use your palm. 
6) Good luck with that knee move, because you might not be able to pick up his leg.
7) Groin shots are illegal in sports, but not in life! A swift kick to the balls in a easy way to incapacitate a man. 
: JO
 @Jadenosteen
 retweet to save a life

 3
 4

 2
 1

 2
 1

 2
 3
 1
p-artsypants:
buttalicious602:

emotionalempowerer:
Please, reblog! IIt’s called self defense. Apart from having here, in the US, one of the highest cases of homicide and rape in the world and high rate of GBV, think about how this could help your mother or sister

Yes indeed#💯💯💯💯💯

Hey guys, as a blackbelt in Tae Kwon Do, I just want to say a few things:
1) Self defense is an amazing skill to learn, and this image set has some pretty good ideas. 
2) PLEASE don’t use your head unless absolutely necessary! You can hurt yourself worse than the attacker, and get in some really big trouble. The elbows and knees are super powerful weapons instead.
3) If you are trapped with your back against a body, and don’t have use of your arms, thrust your hips backwards as hard as you can into the groin. It’ll give you a chance to break away to use your elbow. Stomping on the foot can also help.
4) Don’t try to defeat the attacker. The second you’re free, RUN. Once you’re safe, call the police. You might want to feel like a superhero, but you could be overpowered again. Don’t take that risk. 
5) I also agree with the person who mentioned a closed fist punch against a jaw is a bad idea. You can break your knuckles. Instead, use your palm. 
6) Good luck with that knee move, because you might not be able to pick up his leg.
7) Groin shots are illegal in sports, but not in life! A swift kick to the balls in a easy way to incapacitate a man. 

        

            
            

                
                
                    p-artsypants:
buttalicious602:

emotionalempowerer:
Please, reblog! IIt’s called self defense. Apart from having here, in the US, one of the highest cases of homicide and rape in the world and high rate of GBV, think about how this could help your mother or sister

Yes indeed#💯💯💯💯💯

Hey guys, as a blackbelt in Tae Kwon Do, I just want to say a few things:
1) Self defense is an amazing skill to learn, and this image set has some pretty good ideas. 
2) PLEASE don’t use your head unless absolutely necessary! You can hurt yourself worse than the attacker, and get in some really big trouble. The elbows and knees are super powerful weapons instead.
3) If you are trapped with your back against a body, and don’t have use of your arms, thrust your hips backwards as hard as you can into the groin. It’ll give you a chance to break away to use your elbow. Stomping on the foot can also help.
4) Don’t try to defeat the attacker. The second you’re free, RUN. Once you’re safe, call the police. You might want to feel like a superhero, but you could be overpowered again. Don’t take that risk. 
5) I also agree with the person who mentioned a closed fist punch against a jaw is a bad idea. You can break your knuckles. Instead, use your palm. 
6) Good luck with that knee move, because you might not be able to pick up his leg.
7) Groin shots are illegal in sports, but not in life! A swift kick to the balls in a easy way to incapacitate a man. 
: JO
 @Jadenosteen
 retweet to save a life

 3
 4

 2
 1

 2
 1

 2
 3
 1
p-artsypants:
buttalicious602:

emotionalempowerer:
Please, reblog! IIt’s called self defense. Apart from having here, in the US, one of the highest cases of homicide and rape in the world and high rate of GBV, think about how this could help your mother or sister

Yes indeed#💯💯💯💯💯

Hey guys, as a blackbelt in Tae Kwon Do, I just want to say a few things:
1) Self defense is an amazing skill to learn, and this image set has some pretty good ideas. 
2) PLEASE don’t use your head unless absolutely necessary! You can hurt yourself worse than the attacker, and get in some really big trouble. The elbows and knees are super powerful weapons instead.
3) If you are trapped with your back against a body, and don’t have use of your arms, thrust your hips backwards as hard as you can into the groin. It’ll give you a chance to break away to use your elbow. Stomping on the foot can also help.
4) Don’t try to defeat the attacker. The second you’re free, RUN. Once you’re safe, call the police. You might want to feel like a superhero, but you could be overpowered again. Don’t take that risk. 
5) I also agree with the person who mentioned a closed fist punch against a jaw is a bad idea. You can break your knuckles. Instead, use your palm. 
6) Good luck with that knee move, because you might not be able to pick up his leg.
7) Groin shots are illegal in sports, but not in life! A swift kick to the balls in a easy way to incapacitate a man. 

                    
                
            

            
                
                
p-artsypants:
buttalicious602:

emotionalempowerer:
Please, reblog! IIt’s called self defense. Apart from having here, in the US, one of...

                
            
            
        

    

    

        
Save

    



        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            








        

    

    
    

        

            









    

        
        
        
        
        
        
        
    

    

        rmh8402:

pegasusdragontiger:


kyraneko:

balencia:

kitrazzle:

pissedoffweasley:

wizardingheadcanon:

kyraneko:

elidyce:

thatgirlonstage:

fuckyeahdeathlyhallows:

sirlestrange:

#that is a human as a rat as a cup

That was a long 12 years for Wormtail.

Can you imagine how differently their lives would’ve gone if Ron, in trying to transfigure Scabbers, had actually transfigured him back into a human?Just take a moment to imagine McGonagall’s reaction if Peter Pettigrew had abruptly appeared in her classroom from Ronald Weasley’s rat.Take a moment.

Or if Ron had fucked it up a little worse and couldn’t get ‘Scabbers’ back and McGonagall had take him to disenchant him and next thing we know there’s a naked Peter Pettigrew sitting on McGonagall’s desk and the kids in that class learn six new swear words, a hex they will never dare to use, and a fear of Minerva McGonagall’s wrath that will be with them until the day they die.
Ten and twenty years later first years are being pulled aside and warned never mess around in Transfiguration seriously the last time a kid mucked something up in that class Professor McGonagall used two semi-legal hexes, took down a Death Eater and sabotaged the rise of the Dark Lord before Potter had time to get his wand out.

What most of Hogwarts learned first on that otherwise-unexceptionable day was that Professor McGonagall could sure scream loud.
Professor Flitwick’s Charms 5th-year Charms class was close enough to catch the full effect, and the door had been left open besides; en masse the students recoiled with shock and a miscast Hiccuping Charm broke one of the windows (out which the entire flock of ravens they were practicing on escaped to the Forbidden Forest where they only had to worry about centaurs, rather than annoying young humans with wands).
Up in the Divination Tower, Sibyl Trelawny preened over her foresight to have warned her students of an unprecedented catastrophe likely to occur before the hour was out.
Out in Greenhouse Five, a NEWT-level Herbology class looked up in puzzlement, and most of them were subsequently bitten by the Venomous Tentaculae they were attempting to propagate. It does not do to ignore a Venomous Tentacula when you’re prodding at its intimate parts with a cotton ball held in tweezers, so the class was cancelled while two-thirds of the students headed for the infirmary and the rest of them headed into the castle because if they stayed with the Venomous Tentaculae they’d be outnumbered, and nobody wants that.
And down in the dungeons, Professor Snape turned away from comparing Lee Jordan’s Pepper-Up Potion to spoiled cream at what sounded like a woman screaming from the entrance hall. At the second scream, he ordered the class to remain where they were and behave, sweeping out of the room just in time to miss Theodore Nott suddenly jumping up and yelping as if someone had put a crocodile heart down the back of his robes.
Fred Weasley stepped back from the unfortunate Slytherin, shared a smirk with his twin, and stuck his head out the door to make sure Snape had rounded the corner before leading the way out of the classroom.
-
Back in the Transfiguration classroom, about four minutes ago, it had started innocently enough. Ron Weasley, possessed of a broken wand and a lurking suspicion that most of the family’s magical talent had been soaked up by his siblings before he was around to get any, had attempted to turn his pet rat, Scabbers, into a teacup.
Scabbers had not become a teacup.
Scabbers, blast his useless furry little backside, had become a furry, vaguely teacup-shaped monstrosity out of which absolutely no one would have been tempted to drink, and to make matters worse, he still had a tail.
It was moving.
Harry was hiding a smile behind his hand. Dean and Seamus weren’t even trying to hide, elbowing each other and laughing. Parvati and Lavender were looking with disgust and horror at either Scabbers or him, and Hermione was opening her mouth, no doubt ready to tell him exactly what he’d done wrong.
Which only made it worse that he really thought he’d done everything right this time.
He snatched Scabbers off the desk (eww, the base of the cup had the same texture as rat feet) and turned away from Hermione. He made the wand movement again, picturing in his mind the way McGonagall had demonstrated it. “Erreverto.”
“Erreverto. Erreverto. Erreverto.”
It didn’t work. It didn’t work when Professor McGonagall stopped by and gave Hermione two points for Gryffindor for getting the spell perfect in both directions. It didn’t work when Harry made his successful transfiguration (Ron looked; the pattern was a little bit furry but it was definitely a teacup). Ron’s lips formed the shape of a word that would’ve made his mother box his ears had she heard it and attempted the reverse transfiguration, which didn’t work either.
Finally, faced not only with the indignity of failure but the threat of Scabbers being stuck like that, he’d gone up to Professor McGonagall’s desk.
“Um, Professor?”
Professor McGonagall looked up from the paper she was grading and looked from him to the squirming teacup. “Problems, Mr. Weasley?”
“Um, yeah, Professor. I can’t get it to work in either direction and it’s not fair to Scabbers to make him stay as a teacup just because I can’t do a spell right and can you maybe … ?”
“I suppose so, Mr. Weasley,” she said, and waved her wand in the exact manner Ron had been doing all along.
Nothing happened.
Professor McGonagall looked very, very puzzled.
“Now that’s odd,” she said softly.
As one, the other students rose from their seats and quietly moved closer.
She did not attempt the transfiguration in the other direction. Instead, she made a complex motion with her wand and murmured an incantation that possibly only Hermione recognized. The teacup squeaked. Professor McGonagall looked more puzzled than ever, and made a sweeping wand movement that ended with a sharp jab and uttered, “Arcanum finite!”
And there was a loud bang, and there was a pale, pudgy, and very naked man sprawled out on her desk, and she jumped back hard enough to knock her chair into the wall and screamed.
-
Having taught a particularly rigorous course of magical study to children and teens for quite some time now, Minerva McGonagall had become accustomed to certain things. Students who didn’t listen. Students who did rude things to the mice when they thought she wasn’t looking. Students who accidentally turned a frog or a raven into a flock of starlings or a school of strange slimy South American fish (and tried to solve the immediate problem by filling the classroom with two feet of water, neglecting to consider the gap under the door). Students who tried to transfigure their noses into a more appealing shape and wound up in the hospital wing regrowing their nostrils.
Naked men on her desk was something Minerva McGonagall had never had an occasion to get used to. What made it worse was that she recognized this one, and he’d been dead for more than a decade.
Inferius! was her first thought, followed shortly thereafter by Animagus, which collided with Peter Pettigrew! and produced the utterly horrifying thought of what if all four of them were Animagi? which didn’t bear thinking about at all, so her brain jumped to if he wasn’t killed by a Dark Wizard then why didn’t he say so? and realized there was only one possible explanation why, and about that time her eyes registered that parts of Peter Pettigrew she really doesn’t want to know about were flopping about in front of her face, and she was screaming as she jumped back.
The flow of invective which followed somehow failed to surprise her one bit. Some part of her registered, peripherally, the shocked faces of her students, but most of her attention was directed at Peter Pettigrew, who at very least faked his own death and at worst framed Sirius Black and if Black didn’t betray the Potters then who … did. And the words poured out of her, filthy English and filthier Latin while Pettigrew squirmed on the table, his face rage and guilt and fear and something shifty and contemptible, and he turned to look at the stunned students and lunged for Ron Weasley’s wand.
-
Severus Snape had reached the Entrance Hall by the time the scream died away and the invective replaced it. He almost smirked, amid the alarm; of all the things he’d never expected to hear from Minerva McGonagall … he took the stairs two at a time, still not noticing the students who followed.
He did notice the Herbology class, which had stopped on the way to the Infirmary and were staring transfixed in the direction of the Transfiguration classroom, but pushed his way through them, getting Venomous Tentacula pollen all over his robes in the process.
From the other end of the corridor came Professor Flitwick’s Charms class, with Professor Flitwick bringing up the rear and pushing his way between students.
-
Ron looked stunned as the man who’d been his pet rat snatched the wand from his hand; Professor McGonagal’s expression shifted to one beyond fury and when the entire class recoiled, it wasn’t from the naked man with the wand.
“Laedo!“ Minerva McGonagall roared.
-
Ron Weasley’s wand cast a Splintering Curse many years beyond its rightful owner’s abilities, and it did Peter Pettigrew the poor favor of eliminating the door, which might have slowed him down a bit.
-
Severus Snape flailed and skidded to a halt as the Transfiguration classroom’s door shattered. He stepped back just in time, and stared, jaw dropped in shock, as a naked man he recognized from his school days flew past him and bellyflopped against the wall, bounced, and collapsed to the ground just in time to avoid the “Exitium!” which followed and vaporized an impresive chunk of the castle’s stone wall.
Fred and George and Lee Jordan, determined to stay at the front of the crowd, had been pushed almost against Professor Snape by their fellow Potions classmates and some pollen-coated Hufflepuffs. Fred squirmed aside hastily as Professor McGonagall appeared in the doorway, the look on her face so utterly livid that Professors Snape and Flitwick both reflexively stepped back.
Snape tripped over George’s foot and fell against a knot of Hufflepuffs, releasing another cloud of pollen and knocking them backwards. Pettigrew saw his opportunity and took it, scrambling to his feet, stumbling sideways, and launching himself towards the gap.
And Minerva McGonagall made a thrust with her wand and said, “Perdo.”
In the very loud silence which followed, Filius Flitwick squeaked, “The Splinching Charm, Minerva?”
She might’ve looked embarrassed for a moment, and then she smiled as she looked down at Pettigrew, who lay on his belly, his arms and legs lying akimbo some distance away.
“Unorthodox,” she said, “but useful in a pinch. If someone would inform the Headmaster, and send an owl to the Ministry—-not Fudge, not Crouch, someone competent—-Shacklebolt, perhaps. Students, return to your classrooms, please. Mr. Weasley, I’m very sorry, but I do believe it’s impossible to return you your rat. However, the zero I was going to have to give you for the day’s work is entirely undeserved, as you were not transfiguring a normal rat. You may make the lesson up any time this week.”
-
The story was, of course, much embellished by the time it reached all the students. Versions of it had the intruder peppering Snape with a Glitter Hex or transfiguring Ron’s rat into a pair of boxers, and people had to be disabused of the notion that it had been Voldemort who’d been hiding as a rat all this time.
Snape gave both Weasley twins detention for tripping him, and took forty-seven points total from Gryffindor over the next few weeks for various pretend-subtle pollen references.
Kingsley Shacklebolt showed up with a team of Aurors in time to meet Professor Dumbledore; the Wizengamot launched an investigation into the events surrounding the Potters’ murder; the results turned into a scandal which saw the release of Sirius Black and the forced resignation of both Director Bartemious Crouch and Minister Cornelius Fudge. Director of Magical Law Enforcement Amelia Bones was confirmed as Minister of Magic shortly thereafte, and the Daily Prophet reported that Sirius Black (“Godfather to the Boy-Who-Lived!” “Framed, Abandoned, Condemned to Living Hell!” “Heart-Wrenching: His Release In Pictures, Page 17!”) was considering applying for a teaching position at Hogwarts, “but just for a year, I’ve been cursed enough for one lifetime.” (“The Prophet reminds its readers that the so-called “curse” on a certain Hogwarts teaching position is almost certainly a mere string of coincidences.”)
And, Minerva thought with relish some months later, it was almost three weeks before anyone attempted messing around in her class.
A personal record.

I’ve probably reblogged this before but I’m going to do it again right now

I think this is literally the best au this entire fandom has produced

I’ve only seen this legendary bit of writing in memes and screenshots. I feel so blessed to see it in person.

Beautiful, simply beautiful!

Reblogging my own post because a) it’s my damn horn and I’ll blow it if I want to, and b) I just (finally!) cross-posted this to Archive Of Our Own, so if anybody wants to go read it over there, here it is.

YESSSSSSS! 


Love it!!
: rmh8402:

pegasusdragontiger:


kyraneko:

balencia:

kitrazzle:

pissedoffweasley:

wizardingheadcanon:

kyraneko:

elidyce:

thatgirlonstage:

fuckyeahdeathlyhallows:

sirlestrange:

#that is a human as a rat as a cup

That was a long 12 years for Wormtail.

Can you imagine how differently their lives would’ve gone if Ron, in trying to transfigure Scabbers, had actually transfigured him back into a human?Just take a moment to imagine McGonagall’s reaction if Peter Pettigrew had abruptly appeared in her classroom from Ronald Weasley’s rat.Take a moment.

Or if Ron had fucked it up a little worse and couldn’t get ‘Scabbers’ back and McGonagall had take him to disenchant him and next thing we know there’s a naked Peter Pettigrew sitting on McGonagall’s desk and the kids in that class learn six new swear words, a hex they will never dare to use, and a fear of Minerva McGonagall’s wrath that will be with them until the day they die.
Ten and twenty years later first years are being pulled aside and warned never mess around in Transfiguration seriously the last time a kid mucked something up in that class Professor McGonagall used two semi-legal hexes, took down a Death Eater and sabotaged the rise of the Dark Lord before Potter had time to get his wand out.

What most of Hogwarts learned first on that otherwise-unexceptionable day was that Professor McGonagall could sure scream loud.
Professor Flitwick’s Charms 5th-year Charms class was close enough to catch the full effect, and the door had been left open besides; en masse the students recoiled with shock and a miscast Hiccuping Charm broke one of the windows (out which the entire flock of ravens they were practicing on escaped to the Forbidden Forest where they only had to worry about centaurs, rather than annoying young humans with wands).
Up in the Divination Tower, Sibyl Trelawny preened over her foresight to have warned her students of an unprecedented catastrophe likely to occur before the hour was out.
Out in Greenhouse Five, a NEWT-level Herbology class looked up in puzzlement, and most of them were subsequently bitten by the Venomous Tentaculae they were attempting to propagate. It does not do to ignore a Venomous Tentacula when you’re prodding at its intimate parts with a cotton ball held in tweezers, so the class was cancelled while two-thirds of the students headed for the infirmary and the rest of them headed into the castle because if they stayed with the Venomous Tentaculae they’d be outnumbered, and nobody wants that.
And down in the dungeons, Professor Snape turned away from comparing Lee Jordan’s Pepper-Up Potion to spoiled cream at what sounded like a woman screaming from the entrance hall. At the second scream, he ordered the class to remain where they were and behave, sweeping out of the room just in time to miss Theodore Nott suddenly jumping up and yelping as if someone had put a crocodile heart down the back of his robes.
Fred Weasley stepped back from the unfortunate Slytherin, shared a smirk with his twin, and stuck his head out the door to make sure Snape had rounded the corner before leading the way out of the classroom.
-
Back in the Transfiguration classroom, about four minutes ago, it had started innocently enough. Ron Weasley, possessed of a broken wand and a lurking suspicion that most of the family’s magical talent had been soaked up by his siblings before he was around to get any, had attempted to turn his pet rat, Scabbers, into a teacup.
Scabbers had not become a teacup.
Scabbers, blast his useless furry little backside, had become a furry, vaguely teacup-shaped monstrosity out of which absolutely no one would have been tempted to drink, and to make matters worse, he still had a tail.
It was moving.
Harry was hiding a smile behind his hand. Dean and Seamus weren’t even trying to hide, elbowing each other and laughing. Parvati and Lavender were looking with disgust and horror at either Scabbers or him, and Hermione was opening her mouth, no doubt ready to tell him exactly what he’d done wrong.
Which only made it worse that he really thought he’d done everything right this time.
He snatched Scabbers off the desk (eww, the base of the cup had the same texture as rat feet) and turned away from Hermione. He made the wand movement again, picturing in his mind the way McGonagall had demonstrated it. “Erreverto.”
“Erreverto. Erreverto. Erreverto.”
It didn’t work. It didn’t work when Professor McGonagall stopped by and gave Hermione two points for Gryffindor for getting the spell perfect in both directions. It didn’t work when Harry made his successful transfiguration (Ron looked; the pattern was a little bit furry but it was definitely a teacup). Ron’s lips formed the shape of a word that would’ve made his mother box his ears had she heard it and attempted the reverse transfiguration, which didn’t work either.
Finally, faced not only with the indignity of failure but the threat of Scabbers being stuck like that, he’d gone up to Professor McGonagall’s desk.
“Um, Professor?”
Professor McGonagall looked up from the paper she was grading and looked from him to the squirming teacup. “Problems, Mr. Weasley?”
“Um, yeah, Professor. I can’t get it to work in either direction and it’s not fair to Scabbers to make him stay as a teacup just because I can’t do a spell right and can you maybe … ?”
“I suppose so, Mr. Weasley,” she said, and waved her wand in the exact manner Ron had been doing all along.
Nothing happened.
Professor McGonagall looked very, very puzzled.
“Now that’s odd,” she said softly.
As one, the other students rose from their seats and quietly moved closer.
She did not attempt the transfiguration in the other direction. Instead, she made a complex motion with her wand and murmured an incantation that possibly only Hermione recognized. The teacup squeaked. Professor McGonagall looked more puzzled than ever, and made a sweeping wand movement that ended with a sharp jab and uttered, “Arcanum finite!”
And there was a loud bang, and there was a pale, pudgy, and very naked man sprawled out on her desk, and she jumped back hard enough to knock her chair into the wall and screamed.
-
Having taught a particularly rigorous course of magical study to children and teens for quite some time now, Minerva McGonagall had become accustomed to certain things. Students who didn’t listen. Students who did rude things to the mice when they thought she wasn’t looking. Students who accidentally turned a frog or a raven into a flock of starlings or a school of strange slimy South American fish (and tried to solve the immediate problem by filling the classroom with two feet of water, neglecting to consider the gap under the door). Students who tried to transfigure their noses into a more appealing shape and wound up in the hospital wing regrowing their nostrils.
Naked men on her desk was something Minerva McGonagall had never had an occasion to get used to. What made it worse was that she recognized this one, and he’d been dead for more than a decade.
Inferius! was her first thought, followed shortly thereafter by Animagus, which collided with Peter Pettigrew! and produced the utterly horrifying thought of what if all four of them were Animagi? which didn’t bear thinking about at all, so her brain jumped to if he wasn’t killed by a Dark Wizard then why didn’t he say so? and realized there was only one possible explanation why, and about that time her eyes registered that parts of Peter Pettigrew she really doesn’t want to know about were flopping about in front of her face, and she was screaming as she jumped back.
The flow of invective which followed somehow failed to surprise her one bit. Some part of her registered, peripherally, the shocked faces of her students, but most of her attention was directed at Peter Pettigrew, who at very least faked his own death and at worst framed Sirius Black and if Black didn’t betray the Potters then who … did. And the words poured out of her, filthy English and filthier Latin while Pettigrew squirmed on the table, his face rage and guilt and fear and something shifty and contemptible, and he turned to look at the stunned students and lunged for Ron Weasley’s wand.
-
Severus Snape had reached the Entrance Hall by the time the scream died away and the invective replaced it. He almost smirked, amid the alarm; of all the things he’d never expected to hear from Minerva McGonagall … he took the stairs two at a time, still not noticing the students who followed.
He did notice the Herbology class, which had stopped on the way to the Infirmary and were staring transfixed in the direction of the Transfiguration classroom, but pushed his way through them, getting Venomous Tentacula pollen all over his robes in the process.
From the other end of the corridor came Professor Flitwick’s Charms class, with Professor Flitwick bringing up the rear and pushing his way between students.
-
Ron looked stunned as the man who’d been his pet rat snatched the wand from his hand; Professor McGonagal’s expression shifted to one beyond fury and when the entire class recoiled, it wasn’t from the naked man with the wand.
“Laedo!“ Minerva McGonagall roared.
-
Ron Weasley’s wand cast a Splintering Curse many years beyond its rightful owner’s abilities, and it did Peter Pettigrew the poor favor of eliminating the door, which might have slowed him down a bit.
-
Severus Snape flailed and skidded to a halt as the Transfiguration classroom’s door shattered. He stepped back just in time, and stared, jaw dropped in shock, as a naked man he recognized from his school days flew past him and bellyflopped against the wall, bounced, and collapsed to the ground just in time to avoid the “Exitium!” which followed and vaporized an impresive chunk of the castle’s stone wall.
Fred and George and Lee Jordan, determined to stay at the front of the crowd, had been pushed almost against Professor Snape by their fellow Potions classmates and some pollen-coated Hufflepuffs. Fred squirmed aside hastily as Professor McGonagall appeared in the doorway, the look on her face so utterly livid that Professors Snape and Flitwick both reflexively stepped back.
Snape tripped over George’s foot and fell against a knot of Hufflepuffs, releasing another cloud of pollen and knocking them backwards. Pettigrew saw his opportunity and took it, scrambling to his feet, stumbling sideways, and launching himself towards the gap.
And Minerva McGonagall made a thrust with her wand and said, “Perdo.”
In the very loud silence which followed, Filius Flitwick squeaked, “The Splinching Charm, Minerva?”
She might’ve looked embarrassed for a moment, and then she smiled as she looked down at Pettigrew, who lay on his belly, his arms and legs lying akimbo some distance away.
“Unorthodox,” she said, “but useful in a pinch. If someone would inform the Headmaster, and send an owl to the Ministry—-not Fudge, not Crouch, someone competent—-Shacklebolt, perhaps. Students, return to your classrooms, please. Mr. Weasley, I’m very sorry, but I do believe it’s impossible to return you your rat. However, the zero I was going to have to give you for the day’s work is entirely undeserved, as you were not transfiguring a normal rat. You may make the lesson up any time this week.”
-
The story was, of course, much embellished by the time it reached all the students. Versions of it had the intruder peppering Snape with a Glitter Hex or transfiguring Ron’s rat into a pair of boxers, and people had to be disabused of the notion that it had been Voldemort who’d been hiding as a rat all this time.
Snape gave both Weasley twins detention for tripping him, and took forty-seven points total from Gryffindor over the next few weeks for various pretend-subtle pollen references.
Kingsley Shacklebolt showed up with a team of Aurors in time to meet Professor Dumbledore; the Wizengamot launched an investigation into the events surrounding the Potters’ murder; the results turned into a scandal which saw the release of Sirius Black and the forced resignation of both Director Bartemious Crouch and Minister Cornelius Fudge. Director of Magical Law Enforcement Amelia Bones was confirmed as Minister of Magic shortly thereafte, and the Daily Prophet reported that Sirius Black (“Godfather to the Boy-Who-Lived!” “Framed, Abandoned, Condemned to Living Hell!” “Heart-Wrenching: His Release In Pictures, Page 17!”) was considering applying for a teaching position at Hogwarts, “but just for a year, I’ve been cursed enough for one lifetime.” (“The Prophet reminds its readers that the so-called “curse” on a certain Hogwarts teaching position is almost certainly a mere string of coincidences.”)
And, Minerva thought with relish some months later, it was almost three weeks before anyone attempted messing around in her class.
A personal record.

I’ve probably reblogged this before but I’m going to do it again right now

I think this is literally the best au this entire fandom has produced

I’ve only seen this legendary bit of writing in memes and screenshots. I feel so blessed to see it in person.

Beautiful, simply beautiful!

Reblogging my own post because a) it’s my damn horn and I’ll blow it if I want to, and b) I just (finally!) cross-posted this to Archive Of Our Own, so if anybody wants to go read it over there, here it is.

YESSSSSSS! 


Love it!!

        

            
            

                
                
                    rmh8402:

pegasusdragontiger:


kyraneko:

balencia:

kitrazzle:

pissedoffweasley:

wizardingheadcanon:

kyraneko:

elidyce:

thatgirlonstage:

fuckyeahdeathlyhallows:

sirlestrange:

#that is a human as a rat as a cup

That was a long 12 years for Wormtail.

Can you imagine how differently their lives would’ve gone if Ron, in trying to transfigure Scabbers, had actually transfigured him back into a human?Just take a moment to imagine McGonagall’s reaction if Peter Pettigrew had abruptly appeared in her classroom from Ronald Weasley’s rat.Take a moment.

Or if Ron had fucked it up a little worse and couldn’t get ‘Scabbers’ back and McGonagall had take him to disenchant him and next thing we know there’s a naked Peter Pettigrew sitting on McGonagall’s desk and the kids in that class learn six new swear words, a hex they will never dare to use, and a fear of Minerva McGonagall’s wrath that will be with them until the day they die.
Ten and twenty years later first years are being pulled aside and warned never mess around in Transfiguration seriously the last time a kid mucked something up in that class Professor McGonagall used two semi-legal hexes, took down a Death Eater and sabotaged the rise of the Dark Lord before Potter had time to get his wand out.

What most of Hogwarts learned first on that otherwise-unexceptionable day was that Professor McGonagall could sure scream loud.
Professor Flitwick’s Charms 5th-year Charms class was close enough to catch the full effect, and the door had been left open besides; en masse the students recoiled with shock and a miscast Hiccuping Charm broke one of the windows (out which the entire flock of ravens they were practicing on escaped to the Forbidden Forest where they only had to worry about centaurs, rather than annoying young humans with wands).
Up in the Divination Tower, Sibyl Trelawny preened over her foresight to have warned her students of an unprecedented catastrophe likely to occur before the hour was out.
Out in Greenhouse Five, a NEWT-level Herbology class looked up in puzzlement, and most of them were subsequently bitten by the Venomous Tentaculae they were attempting to propagate. It does not do to ignore a Venomous Tentacula when you’re prodding at its intimate parts with a cotton ball held in tweezers, so the class was cancelled while two-thirds of the students headed for the infirmary and the rest of them headed into the castle because if they stayed with the Venomous Tentaculae they’d be outnumbered, and nobody wants that.
And down in the dungeons, Professor Snape turned away from comparing Lee Jordan’s Pepper-Up Potion to spoiled cream at what sounded like a woman screaming from the entrance hall. At the second scream, he ordered the class to remain where they were and behave, sweeping out of the room just in time to miss Theodore Nott suddenly jumping up and yelping as if someone had put a crocodile heart down the back of his robes.
Fred Weasley stepped back from the unfortunate Slytherin, shared a smirk with his twin, and stuck his head out the door to make sure Snape had rounded the corner before leading the way out of the classroom.
-
Back in the Transfiguration classroom, about four minutes ago, it had started innocently enough. Ron Weasley, possessed of a broken wand and a lurking suspicion that most of the family’s magical talent had been soaked up by his siblings before he was around to get any, had attempted to turn his pet rat, Scabbers, into a teacup.
Scabbers had not become a teacup.
Scabbers, blast his useless furry little backside, had become a furry, vaguely teacup-shaped monstrosity out of which absolutely no one would have been tempted to drink, and to make matters worse, he still had a tail.
It was moving.
Harry was hiding a smile behind his hand. Dean and Seamus weren’t even trying to hide, elbowing each other and laughing. Parvati and Lavender were looking with disgust and horror at either Scabbers or him, and Hermione was opening her mouth, no doubt ready to tell him exactly what he’d done wrong.
Which only made it worse that he really thought he’d done everything right this time.
He snatched Scabbers off the desk (eww, the base of the cup had the same texture as rat feet) and turned away from Hermione. He made the wand movement again, picturing in his mind the way McGonagall had demonstrated it. “Erreverto.”
“Erreverto. Erreverto. Erreverto.”
It didn’t work. It didn’t work when Professor McGonagall stopped by and gave Hermione two points for Gryffindor for getting the spell perfect in both directions. It didn’t work when Harry made his successful transfiguration (Ron looked; the pattern was a little bit furry but it was definitely a teacup). Ron’s lips formed the shape of a word that would’ve made his mother box his ears had she heard it and attempted the reverse transfiguration, which didn’t work either.
Finally, faced not only with the indignity of failure but the threat of Scabbers being stuck like that, he’d gone up to Professor McGonagall’s desk.
“Um, Professor?”
Professor McGonagall looked up from the paper she was grading and looked from him to the squirming teacup. “Problems, Mr. Weasley?”
“Um, yeah, Professor. I can’t get it to work in either direction and it’s not fair to Scabbers to make him stay as a teacup just because I can’t do a spell right and can you maybe … ?”
“I suppose so, Mr. Weasley,” she said, and waved her wand in the exact manner Ron had been doing all along.
Nothing happened.
Professor McGonagall looked very, very puzzled.
“Now that’s odd,” she said softly.
As one, the other students rose from their seats and quietly moved closer.
She did not attempt the transfiguration in the other direction. Instead, she made a complex motion with her wand and murmured an incantation that possibly only Hermione recognized. The teacup squeaked. Professor McGonagall looked more puzzled than ever, and made a sweeping wand movement that ended with a sharp jab and uttered, “Arcanum finite!”
And there was a loud bang, and there was a pale, pudgy, and very naked man sprawled out on her desk, and she jumped back hard enough to knock her chair into the wall and screamed.
-
Having taught a particularly rigorous course of magical study to children and teens for quite some time now, Minerva McGonagall had become accustomed to certain things. Students who didn’t listen. Students who did rude things to the mice when they thought she wasn’t looking. Students who accidentally turned a frog or a raven into a flock of starlings or a school of strange slimy South American fish (and tried to solve the immediate problem by filling the classroom with two feet of water, neglecting to consider the gap under the door). Students who tried to transfigure their noses into a more appealing shape and wound up in the hospital wing regrowing their nostrils.
Naked men on her desk was something Minerva McGonagall had never had an occasion to get used to. What made it worse was that she recognized this one, and he’d been dead for more than a decade.
Inferius! was her first thought, followed shortly thereafter by Animagus, which collided with Peter Pettigrew! and produced the utterly horrifying thought of what if all four of them were Animagi? which didn’t bear thinking about at all, so her brain jumped to if he wasn’t killed by a Dark Wizard then why didn’t he say so? and realized there was only one possible explanation why, and about that time her eyes registered that parts of Peter Pettigrew she really doesn’t want to know about were flopping about in front of her face, and she was screaming as she jumped back.
The flow of invective which followed somehow failed to surprise her one bit. Some part of her registered, peripherally, the shocked faces of her students, but most of her attention was directed at Peter Pettigrew, who at very least faked his own death and at worst framed Sirius Black and if Black didn’t betray the Potters then who … did. And the words poured out of her, filthy English and filthier Latin while Pettigrew squirmed on the table, his face rage and guilt and fear and something shifty and contemptible, and he turned to look at the stunned students and lunged for Ron Weasley’s wand.
-
Severus Snape had reached the Entrance Hall by the time the scream died away and the invective replaced it. He almost smirked, amid the alarm; of all the things he’d never expected to hear from Minerva McGonagall … he took the stairs two at a time, still not noticing the students who followed.
He did notice the Herbology class, which had stopped on the way to the Infirmary and were staring transfixed in the direction of the Transfiguration classroom, but pushed his way through them, getting Venomous Tentacula pollen all over his robes in the process.
From the other end of the corridor came Professor Flitwick’s Charms class, with Professor Flitwick bringing up the rear and pushing his way between students.
-
Ron looked stunned as the man who’d been his pet rat snatched the wand from his hand; Professor McGonagal’s expression shifted to one beyond fury and when the entire class recoiled, it wasn’t from the naked man with the wand.
“Laedo!“ Minerva McGonagall roared.
-
Ron Weasley’s wand cast a Splintering Curse many years beyond its rightful owner’s abilities, and it did Peter Pettigrew the poor favor of eliminating the door, which might have slowed him down a bit.
-
Severus Snape flailed and skidded to a halt as the Transfiguration classroom’s door shattered. He stepped back just in time, and stared, jaw dropped in shock, as a naked man he recognized from his school days flew past him and bellyflopped against the wall, bounced, and collapsed to the ground just in time to avoid the “Exitium!” which followed and vaporized an impresive chunk of the castle’s stone wall.
Fred and George and Lee Jordan, determined to stay at the front of the crowd, had been pushed almost against Professor Snape by their fellow Potions classmates and some pollen-coated Hufflepuffs. Fred squirmed aside hastily as Professor McGonagall appeared in the doorway, the look on her face so utterly livid that Professors Snape and Flitwick both reflexively stepped back.
Snape tripped over George’s foot and fell against a knot of Hufflepuffs, releasing another cloud of pollen and knocking them backwards. Pettigrew saw his opportunity and took it, scrambling to his feet, stumbling sideways, and launching himself towards the gap.
And Minerva McGonagall made a thrust with her wand and said, “Perdo.”
In the very loud silence which followed, Filius Flitwick squeaked, “The Splinching Charm, Minerva?”
She might’ve looked embarrassed for a moment, and then she smiled as she looked down at Pettigrew, who lay on his belly, his arms and legs lying akimbo some distance away.
“Unorthodox,” she said, “but useful in a pinch. If someone would inform the Headmaster, and send an owl to the Ministry—-not Fudge, not Crouch, someone competent—-Shacklebolt, perhaps. Students, return to your classrooms, please. Mr. Weasley, I’m very sorry, but I do believe it’s impossible to return you your rat. However, the zero I was going to have to give you for the day’s work is entirely undeserved, as you were not transfiguring a normal rat. You may make the lesson up any time this week.”
-
The story was, of course, much embellished by the time it reached all the students. Versions of it had the intruder peppering Snape with a Glitter Hex or transfiguring Ron’s rat into a pair of boxers, and people had to be disabused of the notion that it had been Voldemort who’d been hiding as a rat all this time.
Snape gave both Weasley twins detention for tripping him, and took forty-seven points total from Gryffindor over the next few weeks for various pretend-subtle pollen references.
Kingsley Shacklebolt showed up with a team of Aurors in time to meet Professor Dumbledore; the Wizengamot launched an investigation into the events surrounding the Potters’ murder; the results turned into a scandal which saw the release of Sirius Black and the forced resignation of both Director Bartemious Crouch and Minister Cornelius Fudge. Director of Magical Law Enforcement Amelia Bones was confirmed as Minister of Magic shortly thereafte, and the Daily Prophet reported that Sirius Black (“Godfather to the Boy-Who-Lived!” “Framed, Abandoned, Condemned to Living Hell!” “Heart-Wrenching: His Release In Pictures, Page 17!”) was considering applying for a teaching position at Hogwarts, “but just for a year, I’ve been cursed enough for one lifetime.” (“The Prophet reminds its readers that the so-called “curse” on a certain Hogwarts teaching position is almost certainly a mere string of coincidences.”)
And, Minerva thought with relish some months later, it was almost three weeks before anyone attempted messing around in her class.
A personal record.

I’ve probably reblogged this before but I’m going to do it again right now

I think this is literally the best au this entire fandom has produced

I’ve only seen this legendary bit of writing in memes and screenshots. I feel so blessed to see it in person.

Beautiful, simply beautiful!

Reblogging my own post because a) it’s my damn horn and I’ll blow it if I want to, and b) I just (finally!) cross-posted this to Archive Of Our Own, so if anybody wants to go read it over there, here it is.

YESSSSSSS! 


Love it!!
: rmh8402:

pegasusdragontiger:


kyraneko:

balencia:

kitrazzle:

pissedoffweasley:

wizardingheadcanon:

kyraneko:

elidyce:

thatgirlonstage:

fuckyeahdeathlyhallows:

sirlestrange:

#that is a human as a rat as a cup

That was a long 12 years for Wormtail.

Can you imagine how differently their lives would’ve gone if Ron, in trying to transfigure Scabbers, had actually transfigured him back into a human?Just take a moment to imagine McGonagall’s reaction if Peter Pettigrew had abruptly appeared in her classroom from Ronald Weasley’s rat.Take a moment.

Or if Ron had fucked it up a little worse and couldn’t get ‘Scabbers’ back and McGonagall had take him to disenchant him and next thing we know there’s a naked Peter Pettigrew sitting on McGonagall’s desk and the kids in that class learn six new swear words, a hex they will never dare to use, and a fear of Minerva McGonagall’s wrath that will be with them until the day they die.
Ten and twenty years later first years are being pulled aside and warned never mess around in Transfiguration seriously the last time a kid mucked something up in that class Professor McGonagall used two semi-legal hexes, took down a Death Eater and sabotaged the rise of the Dark Lord before Potter had time to get his wand out.

What most of Hogwarts learned first on that otherwise-unexceptionable day was that Professor McGonagall could sure scream loud.
Professor Flitwick’s Charms 5th-year Charms class was close enough to catch the full effect, and the door had been left open besides; en masse the students recoiled with shock and a miscast Hiccuping Charm broke one of the windows (out which the entire flock of ravens they were practicing on escaped to the Forbidden Forest where they only had to worry about centaurs, rather than annoying young humans with wands).
Up in the Divination Tower, Sibyl Trelawny preened over her foresight to have warned her students of an unprecedented catastrophe likely to occur before the hour was out.
Out in Greenhouse Five, a NEWT-level Herbology class looked up in puzzlement, and most of them were subsequently bitten by the Venomous Tentaculae they were attempting to propagate. It does not do to ignore a Venomous Tentacula when you’re prodding at its intimate parts with a cotton ball held in tweezers, so the class was cancelled while two-thirds of the students headed for the infirmary and the rest of them headed into the castle because if they stayed with the Venomous Tentaculae they’d be outnumbered, and nobody wants that.
And down in the dungeons, Professor Snape turned away from comparing Lee Jordan’s Pepper-Up Potion to spoiled cream at what sounded like a woman screaming from the entrance hall. At the second scream, he ordered the class to remain where they were and behave, sweeping out of the room just in time to miss Theodore Nott suddenly jumping up and yelping as if someone had put a crocodile heart down the back of his robes.
Fred Weasley stepped back from the unfortunate Slytherin, shared a smirk with his twin, and stuck his head out the door to make sure Snape had rounded the corner before leading the way out of the classroom.
-
Back in the Transfiguration classroom, about four minutes ago, it had started innocently enough. Ron Weasley, possessed of a broken wand and a lurking suspicion that most of the family’s magical talent had been soaked up by his siblings before he was around to get any, had attempted to turn his pet rat, Scabbers, into a teacup.
Scabbers had not become a teacup.
Scabbers, blast his useless furry little backside, had become a furry, vaguely teacup-shaped monstrosity out of which absolutely no one would have been tempted to drink, and to make matters worse, he still had a tail.
It was moving.
Harry was hiding a smile behind his hand. Dean and Seamus weren’t even trying to hide, elbowing each other and laughing. Parvati and Lavender were looking with disgust and horror at either Scabbers or him, and Hermione was opening her mouth, no doubt ready to tell him exactly what he’d done wrong.
Which only made it worse that he really thought he’d done everything right this time.
He snatched Scabbers off the desk (eww, the base of the cup had the same texture as rat feet) and turned away from Hermione. He made the wand movement again, picturing in his mind the way McGonagall had demonstrated it. “Erreverto.”
“Erreverto. Erreverto. Erreverto.”
It didn’t work. It didn’t work when Professor McGonagall stopped by and gave Hermione two points for Gryffindor for getting the spell perfect in both directions. It didn’t work when Harry made his successful transfiguration (Ron looked; the pattern was a little bit furry but it was definitely a teacup). Ron’s lips formed the shape of a word that would’ve made his mother box his ears had she heard it and attempted the reverse transfiguration, which didn’t work either.
Finally, faced not only with the indignity of failure but the threat of Scabbers being stuck like that, he’d gone up to Professor McGonagall’s desk.
“Um, Professor?”
Professor McGonagall looked up from the paper she was grading and looked from him to the squirming teacup. “Problems, Mr. Weasley?”
“Um, yeah, Professor. I can’t get it to work in either direction and it’s not fair to Scabbers to make him stay as a teacup just because I can’t do a spell right and can you maybe … ?”
“I suppose so, Mr. Weasley,” she said, and waved her wand in the exact manner Ron had been doing all along.
Nothing happened.
Professor McGonagall looked very, very puzzled.
“Now that’s odd,” she said softly.
As one, the other students rose from their seats and quietly moved closer.
She did not attempt the transfiguration in the other direction. Instead, she made a complex motion with her wand and murmured an incantation that possibly only Hermione recognized. The teacup squeaked. Professor McGonagall looked more puzzled than ever, and made a sweeping wand movement that ended with a sharp jab and uttered, “Arcanum finite!”
And there was a loud bang, and there was a pale, pudgy, and very naked man sprawled out on her desk, and she jumped back hard enough to knock her chair into the wall and screamed.
-
Having taught a particularly rigorous course of magical study to children and teens for quite some time now, Minerva McGonagall had become accustomed to certain things. Students who didn’t listen. Students who did rude things to the mice when they thought she wasn’t looking. Students who accidentally turned a frog or a raven into a flock of starlings or a school of strange slimy South American fish (and tried to solve the immediate problem by filling the classroom with two feet of water, neglecting to consider the gap under the door). Students who tried to transfigure their noses into a more appealing shape and wound up in the hospital wing regrowing their nostrils.
Naked men on her desk was something Minerva McGonagall had never had an occasion to get used to. What made it worse was that she recognized this one, and he’d been dead for more than a decade.
Inferius! was her first thought, followed shortly thereafter by Animagus, which collided with Peter Pettigrew! and produced the utterly horrifying thought of what if all four of them were Animagi? which didn’t bear thinking about at all, so her brain jumped to if he wasn’t killed by a Dark Wizard then why didn’t he say so? and realized there was only one possible explanation why, and about that time her eyes registered that parts of Peter Pettigrew she really doesn’t want to know about were flopping about in front of her face, and she was screaming as she jumped back.
The flow of invective which followed somehow failed to surprise her one bit. Some part of her registered, peripherally, the shocked faces of her students, but most of her attention was directed at Peter Pettigrew, who at very least faked his own death and at worst framed Sirius Black and if Black didn’t betray the Potters then who … did. And the words poured out of her, filthy English and filthier Latin while Pettigrew squirmed on the table, his face rage and guilt and fear and something shifty and contemptible, and he turned to look at the stunned students and lunged for Ron Weasley’s wand.
-
Severus Snape had reached the Entrance Hall by the time the scream died away and the invective replaced it. He almost smirked, amid the alarm; of all the things he’d never expected to hear from Minerva McGonagall … he took the stairs two at a time, still not noticing the students who followed.
He did notice the Herbology class, which had stopped on the way to the Infirmary and were staring transfixed in the direction of the Transfiguration classroom, but pushed his way through them, getting Venomous Tentacula pollen all over his robes in the process.
From the other end of the corridor came Professor Flitwick’s Charms class, with Professor Flitwick bringing up the rear and pushing his way between students.
-
Ron looked stunned as the man who’d been his pet rat snatched the wand from his hand; Professor McGonagal’s expression shifted to one beyond fury and when the entire class recoiled, it wasn’t from the naked man with the wand.
“Laedo!“ Minerva McGonagall roared.
-
Ron Weasley’s wand cast a Splintering Curse many years beyond its rightful owner’s abilities, and it did Peter Pettigrew the poor favor of eliminating the door, which might have slowed him down a bit.
-
Severus Snape flailed and skidded to a halt as the Transfiguration classroom’s door shattered. He stepped back just in time, and stared, jaw dropped in shock, as a naked man he recognized from his school days flew past him and bellyflopped against the wall, bounced, and collapsed to the ground just in time to avoid the “Exitium!” which followed and vaporized an impresive chunk of the castle’s stone wall.
Fred and George and Lee Jordan, determined to stay at the front of the crowd, had been pushed almost against Professor Snape by their fellow Potions classmates and some pollen-coated Hufflepuffs. Fred squirmed aside hastily as Professor McGonagall appeared in the doorway, the look on her face so utterly livid that Professors Snape and Flitwick both reflexively stepped back.
Snape tripped over George’s foot and fell against a knot of Hufflepuffs, releasing another cloud of pollen and knocking them backwards. Pettigrew saw his opportunity and took it, scrambling to his feet, stumbling sideways, and launching himself towards the gap.
And Minerva McGonagall made a thrust with her wand and said, “Perdo.”
In the very loud silence which followed, Filius Flitwick squeaked, “The Splinching Charm, Minerva?”
She might’ve looked embarrassed for a moment, and then she smiled as she looked down at Pettigrew, who lay on his belly, his arms and legs lying akimbo some distance away.
“Unorthodox,” she said, “but useful in a pinch. If someone would inform the Headmaster, and send an owl to the Ministry—-not Fudge, not Crouch, someone competent—-Shacklebolt, perhaps. Students, return to your classrooms, please. Mr. Weasley, I’m very sorry, but I do believe it’s impossible to return you your rat. However, the zero I was going to have to give you for the day’s work is entirely undeserved, as you were not transfiguring a normal rat. You may make the lesson up any time this week.”
-
The story was, of course, much embellished by the time it reached all the students. Versions of it had the intruder peppering Snape with a Glitter Hex or transfiguring Ron’s rat into a pair of boxers, and people had to be disabused of the notion that it had been Voldemort who’d been hiding as a rat all this time.
Snape gave both Weasley twins detention for tripping him, and took forty-seven points total from Gryffindor over the next few weeks for various pretend-subtle pollen references.
Kingsley Shacklebolt showed up with a team of Aurors in time to meet Professor Dumbledore; the Wizengamot launched an investigation into the events surrounding the Potters’ murder; the results turned into a scandal which saw the release of Sirius Black and the forced resignation of both Director Bartemious Crouch and Minister Cornelius Fudge. Director of Magical Law Enforcement Amelia Bones was confirmed as Minister of Magic shortly thereafte, and the Daily Prophet reported that Sirius Black (“Godfather to the Boy-Who-Lived!” “Framed, Abandoned, Condemned to Living Hell!” “Heart-Wrenching: His Release In Pictures, Page 17!”) was considering applying for a teaching position at Hogwarts, “but just for a year, I’ve been cursed enough for one lifetime.” (“The Prophet reminds its readers that the so-called “curse” on a certain Hogwarts teaching position is almost certainly a mere string of coincidences.”)
And, Minerva thought with relish some months later, it was almost three weeks before anyone attempted messing around in her class.
A personal record.

I’ve probably reblogged this before but I’m going to do it again right now

I think this is literally the best au this entire fandom has produced

I’ve only seen this legendary bit of writing in memes and screenshots. I feel so blessed to see it in person.

Beautiful, simply beautiful!

Reblogging my own post because a) it’s my damn horn and I’ll blow it if I want to, and b) I just (finally!) cross-posted this to Archive Of Our Own, so if anybody wants to go read it over there, here it is.

YESSSSSSS! 


Love it!!

                    
                    

                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
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        Elon Musk, founder and CEO of SpaceX, announced his plans to launch a new rocket by 2019 named BFR (short for Big Fucking Rocket), which will be the first craft to reach Mars and make a safe return to Earth. The BFR was revealed during a surprise panel at SXSW, during which Musk explained the rocket will have twice the liftoff thrust as the Saturn V - the rocket NASA launched to the moon. Musk also announced that SpaceX is focused on ensuring the rocket’s boosters are reusable for future launches, which will dramatically reduce the cost of each flight, stating, “the question of reusability is so fundamental to rocketry. It is the fundamental breakthrough that’s needed.” SpaceX, which was founded in 2002, recently celebrated the success of the Falcon Heavy rocket (which included a red Tesla Roadster paired with a dummy driver), into the asteroid belt where it remains in orbit, proving the weight capacity of his Falcon Heavy rocket. Musk also addressed the probability of the expected date being pushed back, stating, “Sometimes my timelines are a little, you know…” ___ Photo: SpaceX: TECH NEWS
 BIG FUCKING ROCKET
 Mar 12 |Elon Musk announces plans to
 send a new rocket, BFR ("Big Fucking
 Rocket"), to Mars by 2019
Elon Musk, founder and CEO of SpaceX, announced his plans to launch a new rocket by 2019 named BFR (short for Big Fucking Rocket), which will be the first craft to reach Mars and make a safe return to Earth. The BFR was revealed during a surprise panel at SXSW, during which Musk explained the rocket will have twice the liftoff thrust as the Saturn V - the rocket NASA launched to the moon. Musk also announced that SpaceX is focused on ensuring the rocket’s boosters are reusable for future launches, which will dramatically reduce the cost of each flight, stating, “the question of reusability is so fundamental to rocketry. It is the fundamental breakthrough that’s needed.” SpaceX, which was founded in 2002, recently celebrated the success of the Falcon Heavy rocket (which included a red Tesla Roadster paired with a dummy driver), into the asteroid belt where it remains in orbit, proving the weight capacity of his Falcon Heavy rocket. Musk also addressed the probability of the expected date being pushed back, stating, “Sometimes my timelines are a little, you know…” ___ Photo: SpaceX
        

            
            

                
                
                    Elon Musk, founder and CEO of SpaceX, announced his plans to launch a new rocket by 2019 named BFR (short for Big Fucking Rocket), which will be the first craft to reach Mars and make a safe return to Earth. The BFR was revealed during a surprise panel at SXSW, during which Musk explained the rocket will have twice the liftoff thrust as the Saturn V - the rocket NASA launched to the moon. Musk also announced that SpaceX is focused on ensuring the rocket’s boosters are reusable for future launches, which will dramatically reduce the cost of each flight, stating, “the question of reusability is so fundamental to rocketry. It is the fundamental breakthrough that’s needed.” SpaceX, which was founded in 2002, recently celebrated the success of the Falcon Heavy rocket (which included a red Tesla Roadster paired with a dummy driver), into the asteroid belt where it remains in orbit, proving the weight capacity of his Falcon Heavy rocket. Musk also addressed the probability of the expected date being pushed back, stating, “Sometimes my timelines are a little, you know…” ___ Photo: SpaceX: TECH NEWS
 BIG FUCKING ROCKET
 Mar 12 |Elon Musk announces plans to
 send a new rocket, BFR ("Big Fucking
 Rocket"), to Mars by 2019
Elon Musk, founder and CEO of SpaceX, announced his plans to launch a new rocket by 2019 named BFR (short for Big Fucking Rocket), which will be the first craft to reach Mars and make a safe return to Earth. The BFR was revealed during a surprise panel at SXSW, during which Musk explained the rocket will have twice the liftoff thrust as the Saturn V - the rocket NASA launched to the moon. Musk also announced that SpaceX is focused on ensuring the rocket’s boosters are reusable for future launches, which will dramatically reduce the cost of each flight, stating, “the question of reusability is so fundamental to rocketry. It is the fundamental breakthrough that’s needed.” SpaceX, which was founded in 2002, recently celebrated the success of the Falcon Heavy rocket (which included a red Tesla Roadster paired with a dummy driver), into the asteroid belt where it remains in orbit, proving the weight capacity of his Falcon Heavy rocket. Musk also addressed the probability of the expected date being pushed back, stating, “Sometimes my timelines are a little, you know…” ___ Photo: SpaceX
                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
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        <p><a href="https://emmaubler.tumblr.com/post/171280103319/libertarirynn-ahahahahahaha-i-think" class="tumblr_blog">emmaubler</a>:</p>

<blockquote><p><a href="https://libertarirynn.tumblr.com/post/171279736239/ahahahahahaha" class="tumblr_blog">libertarirynn</a>:</p><blockquote><p>AHAHAHAHAHAHA 😂😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣</p></blockquote>
<p>I think my eyes just rolled out of my head.  If you’ve really been brainwashed into believing that current year America is actually a “dystopian nightmare” on par with the Hunger Games and that you are somehow a hybrid of Tony Stark and Harry Potter, please seek help. </p></blockquote>

<p>I cannot stop giggling. A grown person really wrote this? They really think a place where you can freely voice your hatred for the president is a “dystopian nightmare“? They really think all these kids are Katniss and Harry Potter? They really think this is a “rebellion“ instead of a bunch of teenagers whining on the Internet? “Get them, children. Leave no one standing.“ give me a fucking break. These kids couldn’t rebel their way out of a wet paper bag. Imagine thinking a bunch of people scared shitless of guns are going to be the leaders of a violent revolution 😂😂😂</p>: Patrick S. Tomlinson .
 @stealthygeek
 Follow
 You watched a generation grow up on a
 diet of Harry Potter, Hunger Games, and
 Marvel movies, you stripped away their
 hope, their jobs, their futures, and then
 backed the most cartoonish super-villain
 in history for President, and you're
 shocked the children are fighting back?
 9:30 PM 20 Feb 2018
 5,374 Retweets 14,995 Likes
 190
 5.4K
 15K
 Tweet your reply
 Patrick S. Tomlinson @stealthygeek Feb 20
 Really? You followed the damned script to a T. You pumped up millions of kids,
 for two decades, to believe they and their friends could make a difference. Then
 you thrust them all into a dystopian nightmare of violence and persecution.
 And NOW you're shocked they're all Katniss?
 Patrick S. Tomlinson @stealthygeek Feb 20
 Get them, children. Leave no one standing
<p><a href="https://emmaubler.tumblr.com/post/171280103319/libertarirynn-ahahahahahaha-i-think" class="tumblr_blog">emmaubler</a>:</p>

<blockquote><p><a href="https://libertarirynn.tumblr.com/post/171279736239/ahahahahahaha" class="tumblr_blog">libertarirynn</a>:</p><blockquote><p>AHAHAHAHAHAHA 😂😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣</p></blockquote>
<p>I think my eyes just rolled out of my head.  If you’ve really been brainwashed into believing that current year America is actually a “dystopian nightmare” on par with the Hunger Games and that you are somehow a hybrid of Tony Stark and Harry Potter, please seek help. </p></blockquote>

<p>I cannot stop giggling. A grown person really wrote this? They really think a place where you can freely voice your hatred for the president is a “dystopian nightmare“? They really think all these kids are Katniss and Harry Potter? They really think this is a “rebellion“ instead of a bunch of teenagers whining on the Internet? “Get them, children. Leave no one standing.“ give me a fucking break. These kids couldn’t rebel their way out of a wet paper bag. Imagine thinking a bunch of people scared shitless of guns are going to be the leaders of a violent revolution 😂😂😂</p>
        

            
            

                
                
                    <p><a href="https://emmaubler.tumblr.com/post/171280103319/libertarirynn-ahahahahahaha-i-think" class="tumblr_blog">emmaubler</a>:</p>

<blockquote><p><a href="https://libertarirynn.tumblr.com/post/171279736239/ahahahahahaha" class="tumblr_blog">libertarirynn</a>:</p><blockquote><p>AHAHAHAHAHAHA 😂😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣</p></blockquote>
<p>I think my eyes just rolled out of my head.  If you’ve really been brainwashed into believing that current year America is actually a “dystopian nightmare” on par with the Hunger Games and that you are somehow a hybrid of Tony Stark and Harry Potter, please seek help. </p></blockquote>

<p>I cannot stop giggling. A grown person really wrote this? They really think a place where you can freely voice your hatred for the president is a “dystopian nightmare“? They really think all these kids are Katniss and Harry Potter? They really think this is a “rebellion“ instead of a bunch of teenagers whining on the Internet? “Get them, children. Leave no one standing.“ give me a fucking break. These kids couldn’t rebel their way out of a wet paper bag. Imagine thinking a bunch of people scared shitless of guns are going to be the leaders of a violent revolution 😂😂😂</p>: Patrick S. Tomlinson .
 @stealthygeek
 Follow
 You watched a generation grow up on a
 diet of Harry Potter, Hunger Games, and
 Marvel movies, you stripped away their
 hope, their jobs, their futures, and then
 backed the most cartoonish super-villain
 in history for President, and you're
 shocked the children are fighting back?
 9:30 PM 20 Feb 2018
 5,374 Retweets 14,995 Likes
 190
 5.4K
 15K
 Tweet your reply
 Patrick S. Tomlinson @stealthygeek Feb 20
 Really? You followed the damned script to a T. You pumped up millions of kids,
 for two decades, to believe they and their friends could make a difference. Then
 you thrust them all into a dystopian nightmare of violence and persecution.
 And NOW you're shocked they're all Katniss?
 Patrick S. Tomlinson @stealthygeek Feb 20
 Get them, children. Leave no one standing
<p><a href="https://emmaubler.tumblr.com/post/171280103319/libertarirynn-ahahahahahaha-i-think" class="tumblr_blog">emmaubler</a>:</p>

<blockquote><p><a href="https://libertarirynn.tumblr.com/post/171279736239/ahahahahahaha" class="tumblr_blog">libertarirynn</a>:</p><blockquote><p>AHAHAHAHAHAHA 😂😂😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣🤣</p></blockquote>
<p>I think my eyes just rolled out of my head.  If you’ve really been brainwashed into believing that current year America is actually a “dystopian nightmare” on par with the Hunger Games and that you are somehow a hybrid of Tony Stark and Harry Potter, please seek help. </p></blockquote>

<p>I cannot stop giggling. A grown person really wrote this? They really think a place where you can freely voice your hatred for the president is a “dystopian nightmare“? They really think all these kids are Katniss and Harry Potter? They really think this is a “rebellion“ instead of a bunch of teenagers whining on the Internet? “Get them, children. Leave no one standing.“ give me a fucking break. These kids couldn’t rebel their way out of a wet paper bag. Imagine thinking a bunch of people scared shitless of guns are going to be the leaders of a violent revolution 😂😂😂</p>
                    
                
            

            
            
        

    

    

        
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