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Fred and George weren't the only pair of inventors in their family. They weren't even the first to experiment in wartime.

Five times Stiles served mostly normal drinks in a coffee shop.

Snippets from lives that Willow's activation spell (could have) irrevocably changed. Drabble collection.

She'd left everything to a mysterious Longbottom great-great-uncle by the name of William with a birthdate somewhere in the ballpark of Dumbledore's.

Harry makes a different choice in King's Cross and is given the double-edged gift of a second chance.

When Petunia Dursley refused to take Harry in she forfeited his birthright protection, so Dumbledore took the baby to the safest place he knew: Hogwarts. The applicable staff (mostly just… not Snape) took Harry in on a rotating schedule as he grew from baby to toddler to child. They traded extra credit for babysitting among the older students, and Harry grew up knowing a few dozen different laps that were safe and warm to nap in. This was a Harry who grew up among books, among old transient walls and learned professors. They gave Binns night duty sometimes, and let him talk young Harry to sleep. This was a Harry whose world changed, on principle, daily. The stairs moved. The walls became doors. You had to keep your eyes open–you had to pay attention. So he did. He grew up in a school. Knowledge was power, but knowledge was also joy. This was his sanctuary. There was magic in his world from birth.

Slytherins–- this is a group who laughs when Neville falls off a broom and breaks his wrist. And what if we had Harry there, who had always been the one laughed at, who had a nice thirst to prove himself, who had green trim on his robes instead of red? This Harry still stepped out in front of Malfoy’s best sneer and demanded Neville’s Rememberall back–- though he got a detention from it, not a Seekership. When kids in the Slytherin Common Room tossed jeers at the pudgy feet of Millicent Bulstrode, Harry rose up to do something about it. When Quirrell shouted “troll in the dungeons, thought you ought to know,” and Harry overheard that there was a girl in the bathroom crying, he still ran off to make sure she got out okay. Harry did not ask Millicent to come with him; this was not a boy who asked for things. When he had asked for things, Dudley had laughed, Petunia had scowled, and Vernon had said, “no,” or just kept reading the newspaper like he hadn’t heard anything at all. But when Harry went, Millicent bunched up her robes in her hands and followed.

In which fourteen-year-old Percy Weasley is very stressed, does not get enough sleep, and accidentally and unknowingly saves the Wizarding World because of bad aim.

After the war, Harry needs his new flat furnished, and Luna and Neville help him out. Neville doesn't want to look on Diagon Alley because he's hoping Harry's Muggle-knowledge can help him find a tattoo parlor -- he wants a Muggle-style tattoo. So they head back to an area near where Harry grew up. While on that outing, Luna is entranced by a vintage Muggle clothing shop, which she and Harry peruse together.

"His life's a fucking space opera. And not even the erotic type that airs on New HBO. No, it's the animated comic type where the captain goes splat against the wall every episode and the pointy-eared bastard quirks his pointy eyebrow and steps on the captain's flattened remains."

A collection of ficlet-like rambles and other HP-centric stuff from my tumblr. Ficlet-Ramble #1: Seventh-Year will put Your Name in GOF for a Sickle You’re a first-year who can’t cast Wingardium Leviosa yet? Whatever, sure, just pay up. There’s no way you're going to be chosen against Angelina “Can Probably Crush You With Her Thighs” Johnson, but at least you can tell all your eleven-year-old buddies that you Did A Cool Thing.

When Harry was eleven years old, his Hogwarts letter came by owl. He'd been accidentally blowing windows open and lighting cauliflower on fire for years. James took Harry to go get his wand at Ollivanders, and Lily took Dudley to the Owl Emporium where he tried to convince her they should build an aviary in the backyard. They came home with a fat black cat who hissed at everyone. Dudley named him Spooks, and Lily called him Monster. "Did you have to?" said James. "That is the meanest beast I've ever met, and I've known Remus unmedicated on full moons and a pubescent Sirius thwarted in love." Lily, who had ink on her cheek and a ballpoint pen stuck behind her ear, waved vaguely at the living room without looking up from her arrest report. Dudley was asleep in an armchair. The cat sprawled across his lap. Both its front paws were wrapped around Dudley's arm as it cleaned his wrist with aggressive fondness. "Alright," said James. "Yeah, you had to."

Obito turns himself into the Whomping Willow. It goes great, right up until people start making a nuisance of themselves under his roots.

Once upon a time, Harry Potter hid for two hours from Dudley in a chemistry classroom, while a nice graduate student explained about the scientific method and interesting facts about acids. A pebble thrown into the water causes ripples. Contains, in no particular order: magic candymaking, Harry falling in love with a house, evil kitten Draco Malfoy, and Hermione attempting to apply logic to the wizarding world.

Salazar Slytherin has made his decision. There's only one thing left to worry about.

Dudley Dursley's life is exactly as he'd like it: ordinary.