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jaclcfrost:

u think i am walking around the house with a blanket around my shoulders because i cold but in actuality it is my cloak and i am on an adventure

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do u ever just

get really overwhelmed by how much u love a character

so you just kind of have to sit down and just

wow

i love this asshole so much

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# Sirius






“You can talk to them?”

Salazar jumped and jerked his head around. He had not heard her approach, had not realised that anyone was listening. A small snake with dull copper scales hissed as it darted back into the grass and out of sight.

Helga felt a flush of shame at having startled Salazar, but she could not swallow her curiosity. “You talk to them – and they understand? They talk back?”

He nodded, his expression still and guarded. “Yes. We have an understanding.”

She had not intended to eavesdrop on him. Though could it be called eavesdropping, when she could not decipher the words he was speaking?

Helga had been wandering through the sunlit forest when she heard it. A voice, first soft then harsh, twisted through the trees. She couldn’t understand the words which sounded slurred, strangled – but she recognised Salazar’s voice. It made no sense. Then she realised that he was speaking another language. Parseltongue.

Rowena had always been suspicious of Salazar’s alleged ability, calling it a ‘dark’ art. Helga wasn’t so sure.  “What were you saying to it?”

Salazar burst into a rare fit of laughter. “Do you honestly want to know what I was saying to a snake?” His amusement had melted away any feelings of awkwardness. “It is hard to describe. What they say - if you can put it that way - doesn’t translate exactly.” He shrugged. “If you must know, I was gaining its trust. When they trust, they obey. It’s a kind of affinity.”

Helga stared. “It’s… amazing,” she said, awestruck. “I would dearly love to be able to do the same.”

The smile slipped from Salazar’s face, but his expression was not unfriendly. “Would you?” he murmured.

She laughed. “Of course!” The sun had sunk low and the light that filtered through the trees was tinged red. “Come,” she said, turning back to the castle, “it grows dusk.”

(requested by anon)

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ironthrone-in-asgard:

→ Favourite movie [1/5] 

Harry Potter and the prisoner of azkaban

For in dreams, we enter a world that is entirely our own. Let them swim in the deepest ocean, or glide over the highest cloud.”

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nathanielemmett:

"The locket was accorded this place of honor not because it was valuable—in all usual senses it was worthless—but because of what it had cost to attain it."

(x)

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