Harry and Hermione made their way to the back of the room, where there was a small, vacant table between the window and a handsome Christmas tree, which stood next to the fireplace. Ron came back five minutes later, carrying three foaming tankards of hot butterbeer.
"Merry Christmas!" he said happily, raising his tankard.
Harry drank deeply. It was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted and seemed to heat every bit of him from the inside.
—Prisoner of Azkaban, Chapter 10
This was one of the most vivid and touching moments for me while reading this book. It’s simple and heartwarming, just the way I love it.
around like OotP era genderbent!golden trio taking a nap from studying/planning shenanigans idek i kind of just wanted to draw girl!ron sleeping on hermione
This little scene broke my heart. The girl who believed in nargles, in wrackspurts and blibbering humdingers, has become the girl who believed no more.
i tHINK IM GOING TO START CRYING NW
See, the thing that nobody understands, is that Luna believed in things that had proof. She’s a Ravenclaw, a genius, an expert in the unseen but proven. I mean, if she’d started talking about Thestrals before Harry had been able to see them, saying that there was an invisible winged horse pulling the carriages that only people that had witnessed death could see? You’d have thought THAT was crazy, too.
Luna knows Nargles and Wrackspurts are out there. As far as she knows, there’s proof of it.
But seashells hanging in a door? Those don’t do anything, nothing but give you a false sense of security.
It’s not that Luna doesn’t believe. It’s that now, as always, she’s frank and straightforward. Seashells can’t keep the evil at bay. Nothing can.
Thank you. She is not a naive little kid who believes everything you tell her. She just knows some things we don’t. Because she looks harder.
Wave upon wave of crimson supporters was pouring over the barriers into the field. Hands were raining down on their backs. Harry had a confused impression of noise and bodies pressing in on him. Then he, and the rest of the team, were hoisted onto the shoulders of the crowd. Thrust into the light, he saw Hagrid, plastered with crimson rosettes – “Yeh beat ‘em, Harry, yeh beat ‘em! Wait till I tell Buckbeak!” There was Percy, jumping up and down, like maniac, all dignity forgotten. Professor McGonagall was sobbing harder even than Wood, wiping her eyes with an enormous Gryffindor flag; and there, fighting their way toward Harry, were Ron and Hermione. Words failed them. They simply beamed as Harry was borne towards the stands, where Dumbledore stood waiting with the enormous Quidditch Cup.
mezjennifer - Remus/Tonks
HOGWARTS STAFF DREAMCAST ✗ Freema Agyemanhead of slytherin & transfiguration teacher
She was one of the first muggleborns to be sorted in Slytherin after the war, and she never left the House. Strict but fair, she fights hard for her House to stop having its bad reputation, even if it means making sure her little snakes act like angels. Oh, and she’s the best at Transfiguration there is since Madam McGonagall. No big deal.