39/100 - Phelps Twins (either or both).
(via we-reidentical)
May 26th, 2012
(Source: emmaduerred, via ohyeahemmawatson)
40/100 - Phelps Twins (either or both).
(via we-reidentical)
Happy Birthday Helena Bonham Carter!
March 2nd, 2012
Happy 32nd Bday, Ron Weasley !
(via surfeitdoldrums)
(via magicalromione)
Ron was having a bloody terrible birthday. He had woken up that day to an empty house and the distinct lack of bacon smell wafting into his room. All he’d really wanted was a good morning shag before he went to work, like they’d done last year, but Hermione had left a note on the counter, telling him that she had left for work early. As if he wasn’t already irritated enough from that, an owl flew through the window, holding a letter with a Hogwarts crest in it’s mouth. Apparently, the letter told him, Hugo, and James, had been given a weeks of detention each for setting off a handful of exploding snaps on the second year girl’s dorm. Bloody menace that boy was, even if he did take after his father.
Then, at work, he hadn’t been able to find Harry anywhere. The receptionist had told him that he’d called in sick. All his bloody friends seemed to have decided to pretend he didn’t exist for this particular birthday. He’d run across Ginny in the hallway around lunch time, but she covered her face with her hair immediately and sprinted into the nearest room, which happened to be a broom closet. When he’d tried to ask her about it, she muttered something incoherent about James and exploding snaps and bloody owls and wiggled her way past him.
Well bloody fine. He’d gone through an ordinary day at work, with his ordinary work colleagues, and not one of his friends around to wish him a happy birthday. But if they all wanted to forget that he existed, bloody fine. He’d go home and drink some firewhiskey and watch the quidditch game and not help Hermione with dinner, if that’s how they were all going to be about it.
He apparated down the street on their small London town house, still muttering things under his breath about his bloody, stupid friends and his bloody, stupid life. He walked up the steps and reached for the doorknob, but he never had the chance to turn it. Instead he felt a pull beneath his belly button and suddenly he was circling, faster and faster until his head was dizzy and then- it stopped. And he wasn’t on his street anymore.
He was in the Chudley Canons stadium and before he could register anything else, he had a face full of bushy hair. He spat a little as the familiar mane overwhelmed him and then Hermione pulled back, giving him a chance to breath.
“Happy Birthday!” she said happily. Before he could register it, or even lean forward to kiss her, a pair of glasses behind her caught his eye. It was Harry, and Ginny, and holy hell - all of their bloody friends and family. All of them. Ron didn’t think he’d seen so much red hair in years. They were all cheering at him; Harry calling out something that he didn’t hear, Ginny raising a glass to him, George setting off mini fireworks, Seamus making some sort of obscene gesture. Ron smiled in bewilderment, turning back to his wife who’s arms were still wrapped around his neck.
“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner. Harry and I got here first thing in the morning to set everything up,” she said. Her face was flushed in that pretty way that he liked, and she added, “Do you like it?”
As if he couldn’t like it. He wrapped an arm around her waist, leaning forward to press a little kiss to her temple, despite the cat calls that he received from George. “Of course Mione,” he pulled back and smiled at her. “Best birthday ever.”
Happy 32nd Birthday, Ron Weasley!
(via we-reidentical)
