sherlockt:

“So when are you going to ask her out?”, the Gryffindor questioned without  hesitation.

“I’m not going to ask her out.”

Peter, who was sipping on his pumpkin juice, listened to the conversation with enormous interest.

“Why not?”

I think she has been most decisive last year when she told me she’d rather date the Giant Squid, don’t you think?”

You can read the rest here [x]

A big Happy Birthday to my best friend Evie. I hope you have a nice one. This entire fic is a present to you and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it.

Lily frowned. “Don’t you have some puppies to drown or something?”

“Are you advocating animal violence?” retorted the other. Solitude was so very, very much more important than enemies. [x]

I can’t imagine how hard it must have been for James and Lily to sit there in the afterlife and watch Harry down below

not-so-chosen-one:

He’s their boy

Their baby boy

And they had to watch him come face to face with death far too often than any child or adult should. They had to watch him get abused, attacked and nearly killed, and they had to watch him fight back and they could do nothing about it.

James could do nothing when Harry lost faith in him for a while

Lily could do nothing when Harry longed for her when he found her old letter.

It aches, it really does.

jamesfedorapotter:

“It’s… it’s just so average. November. The trees aren’t all orange and red anymore, and there’s no snow. It’s just… dead.”

“It’s quiet,” corrected Lily. “It’s… contemplative.”

———————

Of course, in November of that year, they would all be painfully reminded of the Week and what was promised in each of the Dark Lord’s messages. But more on that later.

———————

“I suppose,” Lily mused after a while, “seeing everyone today—Caradoc and Dory and Emmeline and everyone… it got me thinking about… you know—November.” 

WHAT THE FUCK GOES DOWN IN NOVEMBER???

Marauder’s era - Karen Gillan as Lily Evans, Aaron Johnson as James Potter, Ben Barnes as Sirius Black, Andrew Garfield as Remus Lupin, Louis Garrel and Severus Snape and Gaspard Ulliel as Tom Riddle. [x]

get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down, give me something that’ll haunt me when you’re not around, ‘cause I see sparks fly whenever you smile.

Her words, emanating from that perfect little mouth as clearly as if they had been uttered just a moment before, resounded in James’s head: over and over like the beat of a drum. In his mind, she was beautiful, sixteen-years-old and sitting in that corridor with the torchlight flickering against her pale, flawless skin and in her bright green eyes. That was almost two years ago, and how things had changed. She was still beautiful, of course, perhaps more so, but there must always be a difference in the way which one understands the beauty they possess and the beauty they covet from afar.

“No one laughs at God when they’re staring down the end of the wand,” he remembered her saying once again, and he smiled just a bit, because of course, Lily was right. Lily was usually right. With the tip of the enemy’s wand pointed at the spot between his eyes, while his own wand lay out of reach, there was a God. There was meaning and significance, and there was a reason to survive, because there was order, truth, importance, and something beyond the tip of that wand. He made a mental note to tell Lily later that she was right: that such a threat makes cowards of intellectual skepticism. It was irrational, he supposed, but that did not matter. Late recognition of divinity may be an act of intellectual cowardice, but just now, it made him brave. Lily was usually right. [x]

girlwiththeradishearrings:

“Happy April Fools, Evans.” 

James looked properly please with himself. He wore a cheerful grin that suggested he had no remorse whatsoever for his actions. Looking perfectly rumpled and at ease, he stood with one hand shoved into his pocket, the other, however, was latched onto a fistful of hair, the only indication he was not fully sure what Lily would do. He waited for a reaction of some kind. Probably debating whether the Head Girl would slap or hex him. She was unsure herself.

She said nothing and merely observed. The air was hazy from the blazing display of firecrackers, some of which were not all extinguished, spitting out their dying breaths of ash. 

James must have thought she would attain the disposition of a firework, and was clearly shocked that she had not backfired in his face at that point. She held a smile back from her lips and leaned back on her heels nostalgically. 

She had always like fireworks. Liked their mystic and suspenseful burst. How they came in something so small but would burst forth into a rupture of light and color. She guessed they reminded her of a life without magic, when light and mesmerizing flares were the closest thing.

James had taken his hand out from his hair and was adjusting his tie, only loosening it further. Lily dipped her head to her chest, taking a moment to smile.

Walking up to the Head Boy, Lily stuck her thumb into her mouth, drawing it up to James’ face. He had tensed immensely as she got closer and was ridged. Lily had to stand on her tiptoes to reach him. 

Dragging her finger across his cheek, the soot that had been smeared there rubbed off. James blinked at her, his hazel eyes curious and thoughtful. There was a moment of held breath and then Lily stepped back. 

“Lucky for you, fireworks are sorta my thing,” he just stared at her. “So, I’ll let you off with a warning, Potter.”