#kid harry

[xx-thedarklord-xx]

Poisoned out of Love

A giggle followed by shushing sounds had Sirius mentally preparing himself for whatever mess the troublesome duo had made this time. It was a shame that Remus was still out cold from yesterday’s full moon.

“Are you sure this is the right recipe?” Harry asked, no doubt with his hands on his hips—something he picked up from Remus. “It smells funny.”

“That’s the whole point, Harry,” Draco said with so much sass that it had Sirius snickering behind his hand the closer he got to the kitchen. “Poison is supposed to stink.”

Poison?

“What’s going on here?” Sirius demanded as he rounded the corner and came to a standstill at the sheer disaster that replaced what used to be a clean kitchen.

“Nothing,” they said in unison, innocent eyes blinking up at him. Yeah, that quit working on him years ago.

“That might have been believable if you didn’t have dirt on your chin, Draco. And Harry you have something slimy on an ear.”

Instead of cleaning off themselves, they cleaned each other. Sirius tried to remain strong and firm, but his heart melted when Harry gently wiped Draco’s chin.

When Draco grinned—a front tooth missing—and giggled as he wiped whatever the hell Harry managed to get on his ear, Sirius was pretty sure his heart exploded.

They were too cute.

“What is this I hear about poison?”

As expected, Harry rubbed his shoe into the floor, contrite and already apologetic. Also expected was the way Draco stomped his foot and crossed his arms.

“I’m not sorry!”

“I know you aren’t, Draco. You never are,” Sirius sighed, coming closer to the table. He blinked rapidly when he realized the ‘cauldron’ they used was actually the dog bowl.

“What’s in this?” Sirius wrinkled his nose at the smell. He probably should have asked better questions or scolded them properly like Remus would have, but where was the fun in that?

“Poop.”

“Milk.”

Sirius closed his eyes before placing his head in his hands. “I’m not even going to ask. What possessed you to want to create this monstrosity?”

When Harry opened his mouth, Draco turned to him angrily.

“No, don’t tell him! If you tell him then he won’t let us poison McMillan.”

McMillan? He couldn’t remember what their kid looked like, but as far as he knew McMillan was their classmate in Magical Care for the Youth.

“I’m not going to let you poison McMillan at all.”

Another foot stamp had him huffing a laugh as he debated on whether it would be rude to vanish their ‘potion’.

He knew better, he really did, but he still asked, “And what did McMillan do that deserves a good poisoning?”

“He made Harry cry!” Draco said, hand slamming on the table. “That’s not okay. No one gets to make him cry.”

That little snot nosed brat made Harry cry? How dare he.

“Carry on then.”

Harry and Draco barely began to cheer when a disappointed, “Sirius, really?”

Sirius turned around; hands raised as he tried to think of an excuse.

“Save it,” Remus waved a hand as he made his way to a chair and collapsed down. “I knew something was wrong when those two went quiet. It’s never a good sign.”

Two outraged, “Hey!”

“But Moony, he made Harry cry! My little baby cried!”

“I’m not a baby.”

“Sometimes parents say that,” Draco said solemnly. “My father says that every time I dress up for galas.”

“You are adorable in your dress robes,” Sirius agreed, cringing at the fact that he agreed with Lucius on anything.

“What about me?” Harry pouted. “Am I cute?”

Before they could respond, Draco nodded rapidly, hair falling into his face. “The cutest!”

Harry blushed, twirling a little at the praise. How come he never did that when Sirius praised him?

“Yes, you are both cute,” Remus said, eyes closed and head resting on the table. Sirius ran a hand down his back, rubbing out any knots that he could find. “But not cute enough to get away with poison.”

“Aww, not fair!” Harry pouted.

“If I could cite my sources on why we should be allowed to, can I then poison him?”

Remus lifted his head, brows raised and reluctantly intrigued. “What kind of sources?”

“No,” Sirius laughed, for once feeling like the adult that he pretended to be. “No poisoning him. How about we settle for a strongly worded letter to his parents?”

Draco’s nose wrinkled. “I don’t approve.”

Sirius took a deep breath. Why couldn’t Harry have come home best friends with another child?

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he deadpanned. “Now, let’s clean this up and get ready for our monthly fun day.”

Draco and Harry gasped, rushing around the kitchen to put everything away.

“Ice cream!”

“Pizza!”

“Movie!”

They continued to shout until everything was clean and they dragged Remus to the couch. Every month on the day after the full moon, they all squeezed onto one couch and indulged on all of Remus’ favorite things in an attempt to make him feel better.

“Sirius, you’re my favorite cousin.”

“What do you want, brat?” Sirius narrowed his eyes, hating that his chest puffed out at being Draco’s favorite.

“Can we watch a scary movie?”

“No,” Remus shook his head. “The last time we did that you refused to go home for a solid week. As much as I love you, you don’t live here.”

Draco blushed, face heating up as he admitted, “That’s because Harry is my comfort pillow.”

Sirius saw the way Remus melted at that, and he was right there with him.

“Do we have anything pressing this week?” Remus asked, already giving in much to the enjoyment of Draco and Harry who were jumping up and down.

“No, and I don’t think Narcissa will mind as Lucius has business in France.”

“He doesn’t have business,” Draco argued, nose wrinkling. “Father has no job.”

Sirius snorted, ignoring the elbow in his side from Remus.

“Alright, we can watch a scary movie.”

“And I can stay for two weeks?” Draco asked, innocent eyes that were never innocent blinked up at him.

“One week.” Sirius couldn’t believe that he was negotiating with a child.

“Three weeks.”

Remus laughed, waving away Sirius’ glare as he continued to laugh.

“One and a half,” Sirius countered.

Draco made a considering noise, one finger on his chin as he thought about it. “Deal, but I get to bunk with Harry.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “I’m not stupid enough to separate you two.”

“Come on Draco,” Harry pulled on his friend’s hand. “Let’s go get the drinks.”

The sound of excited talking, little giggles and laughter echoed back to them, and it filled Sirius with warmth.

“We’ve got good kids.”

There was a time when he would have argued that they only had one kid, but now there was nothing to it.

They had two kids, and they were pretty perfect if he did say so himself.

Poisoning and all.

[lucigoo]

I understand the need for orphaning a fic, and any and every author has my full support ofc. But I cant help feel sad that all those authors amazing works dont see the comments and kudos on their fics (do they?) My fav Wolfstar fic is an orphaned_account one. This one

An Infinte Ocean - orphan_account

Its beautifully written, has most of my fav tropes in and beautiful portrayals of Teddy and Harry. Like it hits every box in my Wolfstar obsessed heart and the writer wont know. Ive read this fic 13 times this year alone, it that precious to me and my comfort fic, plus it has these guys in it!

So, to any and every writter who has orphaed their works, they are still loved, still appreciated and this specific one has helped me so much, so thank you <3

[talaricula]

Things I've seen tumblr memeing about James Somerton doing à la "How did no one see how bigoted he was!" as if those things haven't been a significant part of tumblr culture for over a decade :

Presenting untrue and bordering on conspiratorial versions of (queer or otherwise marginalised) history without any sources

Completely disregarding and disrespecting any expertise on socio-cultural topics/humanities and distrusting academics and historians (incl. acting as if no academics or historians could be queer or marginalised)

Downplaying the role misogyny played in the historical oppression of queer women and concluding that queer men must have been more oppressed than queer women

Bi women are, at best, not as queer as "real" queer ppl, and at worst, simply equivalent to straight women

Despite nominal trans inclusivity, transmasculine ppl are functionally women when convenient (combined with the above, bi transmascs are functionally straight women)

Despite nominal trans inclusivity (bis), shamelessly attacking, threatening and actively endangering any trans woman who questions them or smth they find important (often by unfairly presenting her as violent or as a threat)

Having absolutely fucking wild and reductive takes about ace ppl, the oppression they face and their place in the queer community

Stating that marriage equality is an assimilationist fight while completely ignoring its direct roots in the horrifying consequences of the AIDS crisis for partners of ppl who died of AIDS

Praising western media creators from the past for queer coding even under censure and in the same breath condemning current non western media creators for being homophobic bc their representation isn't explicit enough

Blaming China for all existing homophobic censoring in western media

Assuming all queer media would be better told by western creators and by western standards

Only out queer ppl get to tell queer stories

Heavily criticising almost all queer media created by women or ppl they see as such (see above points about trans ppl) or involving/starring a significant amount of women for any perceived or real amount of "problematicness", but fawning over and praising and negating criticism of queer media created by and starring mostly or even functionally exclusively men (even when it could be argued that, you know, not involving/seriously sidelining women is a pretty clear example of misogyny which should probably be considered "problematic")

And I'm probably forgetting stuff or there's stuff I have internalised myself and don't recognise as an issue

Like idk but I feel like the takeaway from Hbomberguy and Toddintheshadow's videos should maybe be "be aware of such patterns in your communities bc they definitely exist" and not "this guy is uniquely awful" and I feel like a lot of the discussion I've seen surrounding this has been severely failing at that. Most ppl who've spent any significant amount of time on tumblr prob either have internalised at least one of those thought patterns, have had to de-internalise them, or have had to be extremely vigilant to not internalise them (which is done by, you know, seeking out other sources, which also seemed like an important takeaway from the videos)

[girl-drink-drunk]

you would fuck that old man. i would fuck that old man. we are the same. hold my hand

[vanessas-bookereport]

one thing that so many students forget is that, a win is a win. if you planned on doing english homework but instead you finished your history essay, celebrate that, don’t be upset taht you didn’t sick to your plan, at least you got SOMETHING DONE. a win is a fucking win and don’t let anyone tell you different.

[kgreen200]

Hard to Swallow

By Kathy G.

Summary: Johnny, who’s now five years old, comes down with tonsillitis yet again, and has to have his tonsils removed.  Harry, who has turned 11 and is in her last year of primary school, must wait at the local hospital with her mother while her little brother’s undergoing surgery.  Told from Harry’s POV.  Thanks to Besleybean for beta-reading and Brit-picking my story!

May, 1986

Harry sat sprawled on the sofa, one foot on the dirty floor and the other on the sofa by the armrest (because her other leg was folded upward), reading a children’s novel that she had checked out of the school library the week before.  It was Monday morning of the last week of May, and since the Spring Bank holiday had begun when the first of the summer half-terms had ended on Friday, she was planning to join Amy Pitman and some of her other school friends at Admirals Park that afternoon; Mr. Pitman was going to drive them there.  Fortunately, Harry had some money that she had earned from walking Mrs. Thompson’s dog over the past few weeks; she could buy some lemonade from one of the vendors in that park.

The late-May sunshine poured in through the lounge window, forming a rectangle of reflected sunlight on the bare wooden floor.  The lounge was quiet and still.  Mummy was making breakfast in the kitchen, and Daddy had left for work earlier.

When Johnny’s gonna get up?! Harry wondered, frowning; the page rustled when she turned it.  Her little brother had still been asleep when she had got dressed and made her bed; it had since been over a half-hour since Harry had got up, and he had not left their shared bedroom yet.  Time he was getting up; he’s not a baby anymore!  Only the previous month, Johnny had celebrated his fifth birthday on the twenty-third.

Putting her novel on her lap, the 11-year-old girl leaned back to reflect.  In just a few months, it would be summer break, and she would be finished with Year 6 and out of *Kings Road Junior School for good.  Johnny, on the other hand, was in the reception class at *Kings Road Infant School, so it would be several more years before he was ready to attend secondary school.  I can’t believe I’m gonna go to a grammar school next autumn! she thought.  All my friends on this street’ll be going to some of the comprehensive schools!  Including Amy!

Memories of the day when she had learned that she might be admitted there filtered back into her mind…

To read the rest, read here:

[my-midlife-crisis]

[madefortherain]

MY favourite canon wolfstar moment? oh, definitely when harry wonders why sirius never complains about being on his knees for floo calls

[faiell]

seventeen years old

[izooks]

Regular school shootings are only a "fact of life" in the USA because a small minority have figured out how to game the system and impose their will on the majority.

[capricorn-0mnikorn]

I have ~Thoughts~ on the Harry Potter Phenomenon that was

(Courtesy of memories prompted by this Tumblr Poll)

Back when I was a senior in college (back in the mid-to-late 1980s), I actually wrote a fantasy novel for kids aged ~8 - ~11 (in a self-designed course for a single credit, under the guidance of my Literature advisor), inspired by a series of dreams and recurring characters that showed up in them.

My advisor encouraged me to try and get it published. And so, I arranged with teachers from my old school to have a class of 30 or so 10 year-olds beta read it, and give me feedback for revisions. The kids also encouraged me to try and publish it.

So I did.

Now, back then, there was no "Self Publishing." The closest thing was "Vanity Publishing," where you would pay 100% of the publishing cost of your book, which would be printed in hard copy, for the benefit of having 500 -1,000 books shipped to your personal address, which you were then responsible for storing and selling out of the trunk of your car in a parking lot, somewhere. And if word got out that you were trying to claim credit for being a "published author" because of a Vanity Press book, actual publishers wouldn't touch you with a 40-foot pole.

If you wanted to get published, you had to buy that year's copy of Writer's Market: a listing of magazine and book publishers, and agents, with a brief description of what material they published, and what they wouldn't touch.

Guess what genre no agent or publisher was interested in handling?

That's right, Gentle Readers: Fantasy for children aged 8 - 11. I would have happily sent out a dozen queries for each story I wrote, if there were publishers and agents willing to look at them. But for three to four years of trying, in directories of two-columns of tiny print, and several [hundred]* pages long, I'd be lucky to find two or three outlets even willing to look at fantasy for kids.

The general consensus, across the publishing business, was that fantasy was a dead and obsolete genre. If it was for kids old enough to read chapter books and novels, it must also be firmly grounded in realism and actual history, because everyone knows the only people buying books for kids that age were teachers, who wanted stories with practical applications in the classroom.

***

After 3 - 4 years of trying, while I was in grad school, I finally got a rejection from the one agent who agreed to read my novel. A few days later, I received news that my mother had died from the breast cancer she'd been fighting, and my heart just went out of the project altogether.

A few years later, the first Harry Potter book was published. And it became a worldwide phenomenon. And it was the kids, themselves, who were driving the sales.

See, I think the real reason the books were such a success, even though they were never really very well written, was because they were in a genre the audience was hungry for -- a genre they'd been denied access to for all of their young lives.

Someone who is starving will think even moldy bread is delicious.

*Gosh, what a word to leave out via typo; the Writers Market rivaled the Manhattan Yellow Pages in length.

[lilithofpenandbook]

The scene where Snape protects the kids from Werewolf Lupin is so fucking funny to me

He goes from "IM GONNA MURDER YOU" to "What's going on" to "oh SHIT SHIT SHIT!!!"

The amount of emotions that he goes through in those five seconds is priceless

He literally fucking pauses for a whole second going 'what the fuck..?' and then his brain catches up to his eyes and he goes "WHAT THE FUCK?!!"

[imlittlestressed]

It's so funny to look at Harry's thoughts when you have Empathy Skill 8+ because what is this?

It's laughter! :o

There, he's laughing again!!! :O

Sometimes he reacts like a four years old child and that's what we all (including Kim) love in him.

[sher-ee]

Rep. Mike Collins, who represents the district where the school shooting happened today in GA, was asked in 2022 if he favored ANY gun laws including red flag laws. The answer is no, he said God is the answer.

I’m voting for the party that doesn’t wear AR-15 pins on their jackets.

My God. Fuck these people.

[daddiesdrarryy]

Remus: So you and Pads’s brother are just sleeping together now?

James: Yeah, and I’m not great at casual relationships. I don’t want to scare Reggie off

Remus: Then just give him some space, all right? Don’t Floo, don't write him letters, don’t call

James: That’s crazy, Moony. What if I see a sunset that reminds me of him?

Remus: …

Remus: When do you see him next?

James: We’re having dinner tonight

Remus: Okay, put a rubber band around your wrist, and any time you start planning your wedding or naming your children, I want you to stab yourself in the hand with a fork

James: What’s the rubber band for?

Remus: To slow the bleeding

[kgreen200]

Abandoned Babes

By KathyG

Summary: While Jean Watson is in the hospital and Mrs. Templeton is visiting out-of-town relatives, Jean’s husband, Hamish, leaves the children alone at the house for days on end.  What will Harry and Johnny do?  Thank you, Besleybean, for beta-reading and Brit-picking my story!

Note: In this story, Johnny is 4 years old, and Harry is 10.  It was sgam76 who gave me the idea for this scenario that I’ve turned into a story! =)

Harry opened her eyes and yawned.  As she stretched her pyjama-clad arms towards the mildew-mottled wooden ceiling, she turned her head to look at Johnny, who was lying sideways on his bed with his legs bent, his sandy-blond hair mussed, and his brown-and-white stuffed dog lying against his chest; he was looking at her.  He was awake, too.  The early-morning sunlight shone through the bedroom curtains, and the prefab was noticeably quiet.  Well, Daddy had probably already gone to work, and with Mummy in the hospital, that quiet was to be expected.  Harry would have to make breakfast for herself and Johnny again.

Grousing, the little girl threw back her bed covers and got out of bed; Johnny tossed his stuffed dog on his pillow and followed suit.  The two of them left their shared bedroom and went down the hall towards the untidy lounge, their bare feet making soft foot thuds on the hard, unyielding wooden floor.  Their mummy had become very sick a few days before, and an ambulance had rushed her to the hospital.  Since their daddy couldn’t be bothered to prepare their meals, Harry had had to take over the cooking, and she also had to look after Johnny when Daddy was at work, since Mummy wasn’t there to do that, and their across-the-street neighbour and Johnny’s godmother, Mrs. Templeton, was out of town.  Not fair!

“Is Daddy at work?” Johnny asked plaintively.

“Yeah, probably,” Harry said irritably.  As Johnny reached over to tug her sleeve, she pushed his hand away.  “Don’t bug me, Johnny!”  She plodded toward the kitchen, leaving her little brother behind, careful to avoid the crumpled empty beer cans lying scattered on the dirty wooden lounge floor.

Upon entering the kitchen, she paused to think.  Now that she was 10, she could make some foods by herself, and she had been having to do so ever since her mother had gone to the hospital.  Fixing them both bowls of Weetabix wouldn’t be hard, and making sandwiches at lunchtime would be easy.  Making supper, on the other hand, would be the hard part; fortunately, there was some leftover spaghetti Bolognese that Mummy had made before she’d been rushed to the hospital, and all Harry would have to do was to warm it up.  She would have to stick to making dishes that she already knew how to make; at suppertime that day, that would mean warming the spaghetti again.  Johnny, on the other hand, was only four years old, so he was too short to reach the upper cabinet doors, and not strong enough to lug a carton of milk to the counter.  He could take the spoons out of the drawer and the serviettes out of their holder, and put them on the table, though.

At least school’s out for the summer, she thought.  Since that was the case, she didn’t have to worry about homework, thank goodness.  School would begin in September, the following month; Harry would be starting her last year at *Kings Road Junior School, and Johnny would be entering his first year at *Kings Road Infant School.  He would be in the reception class.  Out loud, she called out, “Johnny, come help me!”

To read the rest, read here: