bibmob:

Ok but-
Harry somehow got lost in the castle one day, maybe in the beginning when he didn’t know his way around yet.
And Severus is at first annoyed but later he’s  just freakin worried out of his mind
like, he knows the castle is relatively safe BuT WhAt If
And lil Harry is just so stressed and scared like that time he got lost at the supermarket and the Dursleys almost left him there intentionally???

Idk

ac1d6urn:

The Bravest Man.

A comic strip in progress.

Chapter 1 of 6.

Transcript

“There once lived a man in the house by the river.”

Isn’t that how good stories start? 

But this man is no good. He is no hero. Or even a kind man. He is vicious, petty, and broken. 

As ugly on the outside as he is on the inside. Many, far more worthy than him, should have survived the war. Or walked away free to live out their days in relative peace.

But life is rarely fair, isn’t it?

And so, in spite of many who wish he was dead, Severus Snape wakes, sneers into his morning cuppa, does his shopping at Tesco on a Friday night, brushes the chimney soot off his shirtsleeves, and hides old scars.

After all, life carries on, even when you least expect it.

Some nights it seems that, after nearly five decades of surviving, he’s still learning how to live it in peace. Free at last.

It doesn’t come easy.

Still, he makes it work. He raises his collar high over the scar on his neck, even in summer, pulls his sleeves down over his wrists, and never, ever greets the neighbours.

When the post arrives, he Incendios every Howler, a routine since the end of the war. 

[The Potter Scandal! Will Ginevra change her surname? How will the children cope. More on page 3]

He still reads the Prophet. The ghastly rag.

He makes porridge or eggs, or sometimes empties a tin of beans on toast. Every week, he brews another dose of Dreamless Sleep in the cellar. Every evening he sweeps the coal dust with his mother’s favourite broom. The unridden, Muggle kind. 

The flames in the fireplace have never glowed green. There is no floo powder on the mantle.

He keeps a journal, but never writes about the past. He tries not to dream of it. Even though his Secret is Kept well enough, he meticulously checks the iron locks every night and renews his security spells every other Tuesday. 

Until, one day. Everything changes.

The ghost of a stag prances right through his carefully honed defenses into the seclusion of his living room and says in Harry-Bloody-Potter’s voice.

“Professor? We need your help!”

mymymajesty:

powerfull 

suika28:

so I redraw it again.
最近舊的同人圖又被翻起來，覺得畫太醜了應該要重新再畫過。