#hogwarts letter

[c3dricsluv]

I didn't get a hogwarts letter at 11,

I didn't get taken to camp halfblood at 12,

I didn't get my memory wiped and get thrown into a maze at 13,

I'm 14, so far my siblings haven't found a wardrobe that leads to narnia,

If that doesn't happen I have the chances of:

Being reaped into the hunger games at 15,

Choosing dauntless and discovering I'm Divergent at 16,

Meeting two beautiful vampire brothers at 17,

Becoming a vampire after giving birth to a daughter with my vampire husband at 18.

God, please make at least one of these come true, I'm not doing very well in this world.

[tistheblackraven]

My 17th birthday was weeks ago, and I didn't receive the Hogwarts letter. I guess I have to accept that it's too late now.

[complaints-from-poland]

Can we please talk about the portrayal of domestic abuse in children's media?

Because it's fucked up.

Trigger Warning / Content Notion: I'm talking about my experience and trauma as a child abuse survivor, nothing graphic or drastic, no details about the abuse, but it is a bit bleak and might be upsetting, especially for people who have experienced abuse themselves and/or are very sensitive to other people's pain. There's some cursing.

A great example of this is Harry Potter (of course the TERF princess Jowling Kowling Rowling isn't the only one guilty of it, it's all over the place - which makes it even worse, because we're bombarded by this bullshit from everywhere, with almost no alternative).

The main character is abused by the family he's living with, socially isolated, bullied at school, has no support system, and the abuse is the only thing he knows. And then he goes to magical school, and BAM, he's making friends, he's assertive, confident, brave, sets boundaries, goes on to save the fucking world (yeah the surface-level understanding of oppression and bigotry in HP is a topic for another time).

I'll admit, relating to Harry when I was a kid did help me survive. But at the same time, it gave me very unrealistic expectations of what the trauma will do to me. I thought something is wrong with me, that I'm weak, because the abuse didn't make me stronger, it fucking destroyed me.

As you probably already know, and as I know now, that's what abuse does. It doesn't make you stronger, it doesn't build you up, it doesn't do anything good, it destroys you, sometimes forever. To grow as a person you need love, safety, support, good role models, space to learn and explore you interests.

I made myself strong. I'm cool, smart, interesting, kind, brave, caring, resilient and a good friend not because of the abuse, but despite it. I owe nothing to my abusive parents; every good thing I have in my life is there thanks to the people that helped me escape from them, protected me from them, made me feel safe and at ease, showed me love, compassion and understanding, gave me the space to be my hurt self, with all the good and bad, appreciated me, assured me that what I was put through was fucked up and nobody, especially a child, should ever be treated like this.

Yeah, I probably wouldn't be a very interesting action movie character, with my sleeping for days, crying, not leaving the house or showering for a week, not being able to make any friends, jumping at every sudden noise, not eating, nightmares, being barely conscious because I can't sleep and all the other fun stuff PTSD does to you. But maybe your hero doesn't have to go through abuse. Maybe losing your parents as a baby is tragic enough. Fuck, the Dursleys could even still try to isolate him from anything magical and oppose to Harry going to Hogwarts, not because of hatred, but because they would want to protect him from his parents' fate.

This narration is not just minimizing the impact, it's gloryfying abuse, trying to paint it as something with positive consequences. It doesn't have any. There's no "good damage". I could've been safe, happy and healthy for my whole life. Nothing good came out of my suffering. Maybe if I knew it, I would've asked for help earlier.

Children deserve to know the truth. Sometimes you need to simplify it a bit, but stories about heroes becoming good people because of their trauma are not simplification, they are lies, and they are further hurting people who are already hurt and vulnerable.

[wickedpotterpictures]

Tom Felton - Draco malfoy ll Behind The Scenes

[guess-ill-dye]

I HAD 0.5 BELLOW THE POSITIVE GRADE AND WAS SUPER MAD AND THEN MY TEACHER PASSED OUT

WHERE IS MY LETTER

WHERE

It's not the first time ok rlly where is my letter portuguese Hogwarts

[artypurrs]

This beautiful art was made by the amazing artist @jasminedragonart thank you so much for making this for my friend 😁🤗

[unheartbreakable]

Obliviate

[ihsnamih]

[alltoounwellll]

it’s been 12 years since I was 11 but I’m still waiting for my hogwarts letter :(

[brightside-brigade]

It was a part of your childhood? Yea! Mine too! I remember staying up late at our grandmas house, watching the movies downstairs on an air mattress, eating junk food together, ect. Yes, those are very dear memories to me, it was a simpler time, but I've still let go, and if I can, so can you. Keep your memories, but move on and grow.

[snoweylily]

headcanon that Hogwarts letters are addressed to your chosen name and not your dead name because ~ magic ~

[mcflurryoreoo]

[mirbisduschoen]

We've been trying to reach you concerning your [HOGWARTS ACCEPTANCE LETTER]

It just occurred to me that: 1. The Dursleys from Harry Potter, being magic-hating Muggles, probably dont have their fireplace connected to the Floo.

2. It would be impossible for owls to send the letters down the chimney that goddamn fast.

So, therefore, flooding the house of the recipient with hundreds of thousands of letters is probably a spell, and, therefore...Wizards and Muggles both independently invented spam mail.

OH GOD, IMAGINE IF YOU COMBINED THE TWO. You click on a suspicious email, and then there's a rumbling from your fireplace as your house is swiftly filled with fancy calligraphed letters on parchment promoting penis enlargement pills and other [HYPERLINK BLOCKED] stuff

[look-the-girl-with-broken-smile]

First day, thanks to the 72 hours preview.

I'm so fucking excited, I already played for about 1 hour and I love how it's made, the beginning story and I think it will be so interesting going through this adventure.

Once a Potterhead (and a Ravenclaw), always a Potterhead.

[emeriethevalkyriegirl]

Nesta Archeron (Harry Potter AU)-Chapter 2 (The Letter)

Summary: After a horrible trip to the zoo, Nesta is wrongly punished and has been sent to the cellar. But she isn’t alone.

Carrie burst through the door of the house, freezing cold from the recent water fail. “Mommy, I want a towel!” Carrie cried as Aunt Lena kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry dear, I’ll get you a towel. I have to deal with a ‘pest’ problem” Aunt Lena replied referring to Nesta.

Nesta only rolled her eyes and blew some of her hair from her face. She mutter a few words under her breath an eleven year old shouldn’t say out loud. “Now as for you!” Nesta gasped not bothering to hide the surprise from her face. Aunt Lena grabbed Nesta’s wrist and pulled her upstairs. “What did you do back there?! At the zoo.”

“I don’t know.” Nesta hear a ‘slap’ sound and felt a sharp burn on her right cheek. Right, a slap. She almost forgot about that. Nesta refrained from rubbing her cheek with her free hand. Aunt Lena didn’t show any remorse (not that she felt it anyway). “Don’t play dumb with me! You did it on purpose didn’t you?” Nesta growled. “I didn’t. The glass broke by itself and reformed like nothing happened. It was like magic!”

Aunt Lena glared even harder. Magic. That was the word that Nesta’s aunt hated more than anything. When she appeared on her doorstep as an infant, it was magic. When she was able to stay up late from a thunder storm with no comfort from anyone else, it was magic. When she was able to make a birthday cake for her bratty cousin without crying her eye balls out, it was magic. Not hope. Not faith. Magic.

Aunt Lena growled back, yanking the door open to the cellar. The cellar was dark. Too dark for anyone to see. Nesta had been to the cellar loads of times to be able to understand her surroundings. The only thing that was in the cellar was a fire place and a tiny bed that wasn’t comfortable for her feet.

“There is no such thing as magic.” Aunt Lena replied as she pushed Nesta into the cellar and closed the door behind her, consuming Nesta into the never ending darkness.

----------------------

It was 20 minutes into the darkness that made Nesta want to cry. It hasn’t even been 30 minutes and she was already giving up on trying to escape. Nesta was curled up in a tiny ball, her knees covering her mouth. “It’s my birthday.” she mutter under her breath. “It’s my birthday and they didn’t care.” That only made Nesta cry more.

Just as Nesta’s magic was starting to fade completely, a burst of flame engulfed in the fire place. It startled the poor girl causing her to help in surprise. The fire’s glow filled the room with warmth and light. “How did...” Nesta slowly crawled forward to the burning flame. Longing for its warmth, Nesta reached out her hand.

“Hey there.” Nesta gasped and pulled her hand back. Nesta turned her head left and right. It was a voice. A male voice. “Um, hello?” The voice chuckled. “I’m over here.”

“Where?”

“In front of you.” Nesta followed the voice to the fire. The fire began to open a small path revealing a tiny man. His entire body was in flames but he didn’t seem to notice. His hands were behind his back and his hair was cut. He smiled at her including a small wave. “Hi there.”

Nesta stared at him with awe. “Are you real?” she asked reaching out towards the fire boy. However, when her fingertips grasp his face, Nesta felt a jolt of pain and bounced back. “Ouch!” she said, rubbing her fingers in her palm. “Yeah be careful. Fire burns, kid.”

“How did you do that?” The man folded his arms. “Just a simple spell.

“A spell? Like a magic spell?” The man nodded making Nesta smile for the first time since this morning.

The man nodded again, clearly impressed with Nesta’s enthusiasm. “You bet kid! And that’s not all kid.” The man twirled his wrists and began to make a giant envelop. Too big for him to carry alone but big enough for Nesta to read.

Nesta took the envelop to inspect it. On the back of it, it read: ‘To Nesta Archeron’. “A letter?”

“Not just any letter. An acceptance letter.” Nesta looked at the front and saw a red seal in carve with the letter ‘H’. Careful not to ruin the envelop, she began to open it and take out the letter:

Dear Miss Archeron,

We are pleaded to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You are invited to attend an orientation meeting on August 3, 2001 at 8:00pm. To avoid detection by Muggles, you should pretend you are attending a birthday party for Rachael. It has been arranged for Rachael’s brother to meet you at 1437 Road Street and accompany you on foot to Platform 9 3/4 where you will meet the Hogwarts Express. Your parents may pick you up via the floo network or muggle transport from 0496 Marvel Road.

We wish you the best at Hogwarts

Yours Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

“So I’m a...witch?”

“Bingo!” The man cheered, making finger hand guns. “Class starts tomorrow. So you better hurry.”

“But my Aunt won’t let me go.” Nesta replied looking down with sadness. “She won’t even let me look out the window.” The man from the fire, placed his hand on her knee. “What won’t know won’t hurt her. Besides, this is your chance to finally get you ready for the best school in the world.”

Nesta considered his words. He might be a man of honor, but still... “Why should I believe you? I don’t even know your name.” Nesta replied, crossing her arms over her chest. That only made the man want to chuckle more. “Well sense you asked so nicely, the names Eris. First born of Beron Vansarra.” Eris smirked with pride. Nesta only looked at him dumbfounded.

A loud bang interrupted the firely chat. “Shut up, Nesta!” I don’t wanna hear you talking to yourself while I’m bathing!” The voice came from Carrie. Nesta gulped and shoved the letter in her pocket. “If I go to Hogwarts, can I get away from them?” she asked, desperate for an answer. Eris nodded. “Of course. You’ll have to come back every summer but we can make it happen.”

“We?”

“Me and the other High Lords of course. How about I meet you again out your bedroom window and I’ll take you straight to Hogwarts. So, wanna come?”

This time, Nesta didn’t hesitate. “Okay, I’ll go.”

“Excellent choice. I’ll come by tonight to pick you up.” Eris replied as he turned away into the fire. “Oh that reminds me, Happy birthday!” Eris suddenly pointed out of the blue. Before Nesta could thank him, he vanished, leaving the fire to burn for Nesta’s warmth.

[ihsnamih]