At twilight on August the 25th 1999, one week before classes were to begin, Hermione Granger Apparated into Hogsmeade, a wand box clutched under her arm.
Headmistress McGonagall was waiting for her outside the Three Broomsticks. The two women greeted each other warmly, and then set off towards the castle. Or rather, towards the grounds outside the castle.
They chatted amiably as they strolled towards the groundskeeper’s hut. Hagrid, sitting outside and darning a pair of enormous socks, looked up as they approached.
“Good evenin’ Headmistress, Hermione,” he said with some gruff surprise.
“Good evening, Hagrid,” replied McGonagall. “May we go inside? I believe Hermione has a proposition to discuss with you.”
If you had stood outside the hut as the evening darkened and the stars rose into the sky, you’d have heard the rumblings of an argument coming from inside the hut. You’d have heard Hagrid’s gruff refusals, Hermione’s calm (and then not so calm) rebuttals, and the very occasional interjection of the Headmistress.
Hermione did not emerge until the moon had fully risen and darkness enveloped the grounds. But in the light of the nearly full moon, you could see a smile on her face.
The Shrieking Shack was no longer widely believed to be haunted, now that the story of Remus Lupin was fully known. Still, the residents of Hogsmeade and Hogwarts avoided it out of a mixture of respect and residual fear.
This suited Hermione perfectly. The interior of the Shack was now stacked with books and bottles of potion ingredients. A cauldron sat in the corner, a telescope pointed out a cracked window, and cushions lined one wall. A table was covered in parchment, broken quills, ink pots and stains. Once a week, Hermione would apparate into the Shack and go over her notes from the previous session while she awaited her student’s arrival.
Sometimes he was late without explanation. Sometimes he would bring a wounded bowtruckle he wasn’t comfortable leaving on its own. Sometimes Fang would follow him and sit in the corner whining while his master sweated and cursed over a cauldron. Hermione was calm but firm, making adjustments as needed and letting Hagrid’s frustrated words roll off her back like water droplets.
The Hogsmeade residents may have turned a blind eye to the goings-on in the Shrieking Shack, but that didn’t mean they weren’t relieved as time went on and there were fewer and fewer roars of anger echoing through the village.
The OWL testers had been warned in advance that they would have an unusual student that year. That didn’t mean they weren’t taken aback when Rubeus Hagrid appeared on their testing scrolls. They all knew of him of course, knew the role he played in the Second War and of the false accusations leveled against him.
They were worried they would have to be kind.
They needn’t have. No one could have Hermione Granger teach them personally for a year and not improve in all aspects. His potions may not have been textbook perfection, he may not have fully transfigured his toad, but Hagrid had clearly worked hard to master his long dormant abilities.
Rubeus Hagrid may not have followed the traditional path to wisdom. But he had a new wand, the (sometimes grudging) respect of his peers, classes to teach and 6 OWLs.
Including the highest score ever recorded on Care of Magical Creatures.
(written and submitted by ppyajunebug; please excuse me, because I have something in my eye. Oh yes, it is my joyful tears. ppyajunebug has a way of bringing those out of me, you see. Their submissions tackle some of the saddest moments in canon, turning them around and making something beautiful out of them.)
THIS WAS SO STINKIN CUTE EVERYONE STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING AND READ THIS
A tip from your favorite nurse
(that’d be me)
Always have eggs in your fridge
You just never know when someone will split their head open
Or cut their finger while cooking
And so on
See that membrane there?
While the blood is gushing - hold pressure and crack open an egg
Peel that there membrane off and put it on the wound (continue holding pressure)
The membrane will harden and keep the wound closed until you can get to the ER for stitches
If you even need them that is
Nature: 1, Band aids: 0
I did some research on this (because I do that now, fucking science get out) and it seems that this was done in the early 1900s somewhat frequently. It was used as a way to treat just about any kind of skin wound, from burn to cut to in at least one case an ulcer. It actually helps the wound heal not by preventing blood loss but by replacing part of the skin tissue and helping it grow.
It also helps in healing scars and reducing their visibility.
Bully messes with karate champ. [video]
The source video is very, very worth watching. A few things to point out:
The young woman in the dark coat is continually trying to escape from the man. She has spoken to him, she’s pulled away, she’s even tried to walk away before he dragged her back. She hit him as a last resort but it didn’t do anything, he just got more aggressive.
The girl in the white jacket was walking by, recognized that a bad situation was happening, stopped, and intervened. At 0:28 she calls the man out, and continues to call him out until he breaks off attacking the young woman in the dark coat and turns his aggression on her. At which point she defends herself—and then she escorts the young woman in the dark coat safely away.
This is a hero.
Bringing this back.
My sister and I have a headcanon that Jane is Belle and the Beast’s grandaughter.
and I think this further proves our point…
Which would explain why she understand Tarzan, he sort of reminds me of Beast in attitude…. he is sort of a Beast… hmmm. I like your headcanon.
I agree. Professor Porter said that she got her wild stories from her mother. Belle had wild stories, which turned out to be true, just like Jane’s story about Tarzan was true.
This must be shared, with EVERYONE!
circumhorizontal arcs photographed by david england, andy cripe, del zane, todd sackmann and brandon rios. this atmospheric phenomenon, otherwise known as a fire rainbow, is created when light from a sun that is at least 58 degrees above the horizon passes through the hexagonal ice crystals that form cirrus clouds which, because of quick cloud formation, have become horizontally aligned. (see also: previous cloud posts)