fleamontpotter:

fleamontpotter:

inside the bags of my marauder children 

part 2 to this 

he sent her shakespeare

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
  If this be error and upon me proved,
  I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

so many things to see here

• remus to do list
• AN INJURED SQUIREL
• EMERGENCY SNAPE WIG
• james’s picture
• THEIR CLOTHES
• the motherfucking squid