hellochameleon

511. At Luna’s wedding, the whole of the front row of seats was reserved for apparently no one. Harry went up to her at the end of the service. “Luna, who was meant to sit there?” Luna turned her glassy eyes on him. “Oh, they did sit there. In a spiritual way, I suppose,” she said. She pointed out the seats one by one. “Right. That one’s for my mother, those are for your parents because I think I would have liked them, that one is for Sirius, the one next to that is for Professor Lupin - they were friends, weren’t they? - and that’s for Tonks, then Fred Weasley, then Mad-Eye, then Professor Dumbledore, then Professor Snape. I hope they liked the wedding.” She smiled and waved into what was seemingly empty space, before prancing off into the crowds. Harry had never felt so touched before.

the-power-of-potter:

gred-forge-weasley:

image

I think that’s the best Head Canon I’ve ever read.

cityof-heavenlybooks

All I can think of is the emaciated bodies of the children on our kitchen table as my mother prescribes what the parents can’t give. More food. Now that we’re rich, she’ll send some home with them. But often in the old days, there was nothing to give and the child was past saving, anyway. And here in the Capital they’re vomiting for the pleasure of filling their bellies again and and again. Not from illness of body or mind, not from spoiled food. It’s what everyone does at a party. Expected. Part of the fun.