Daily OpusEverything I write is freely rebloggable. Just keep the source and tell people about my books :D [Until I decide otherwise, my pronouns are Ze/Hir/Hirself. As in "Ze went to the shops to get hir medication hirself". Thank you for the respect.]
concept: willy wonka and harry potter take place in the same universe the ministry of magic haaaates Willy Wonka
“Mr. Wonka,” Dumbledore smiled warmly, looking down into the Pit from his podium. The members of the Wizengamot muttered disapprovingly, shifting in their seats. Willy Wonka, clad today in a bright magenta suit and tophat, beamed cheekily up at them from his chair, his silver-gloved hands cradling his chin.
“Mr. Dumbledore,” He replied brightly, with the barest hint of a lisp.
“I trust you know why you are here?” Dumbledores question was crisp and businesslike, but the twinkle in his eye gave away his amusement at the situation.
“Not at all! I’ve nary a clue,” Wonka wiggled his eyebrows. Dumbledore audibly stifled a laugh.
“You are accused of improper use of magic, improper use of muggle artifacts, and several counts of using magic in front of a muggle,” Dumbledore reminded him. He conjured a projection with his wand. Displayed in grainy sepia was Willy Wonka, arm around a boy of around 10. Behind his back, he twitched an ash wand, and machines in the background around them whirred to life, producing all manner of sweets.
The projection ran its course and collapsed, and Dumbledore stowed his wand back inside his robes.
Wonka smiled and fiddled with his hat.
“How do you plead?” Dumbledore asked, leaning forward eagerly for what would surely be an amusing trial.
“Not guilty on all counts,” Wonka said, perhaps a tad smugly.
The members of the Wizengamot muttered amongst themselves. Not Guilty? Impossible!
Dumbledore hushed them quickly. “Explain, if you would. We have, after all, quite a mountain of evidence.”
Wonka stood and brushed a bit of dust off his suit. He tipped his hat mischievously. “Of course,” he grinned.
“Firstly, use of magic shall only be considered improper whereby it is applied to cause harm or applied recklessly. All magic used in my sweets is rigorously tested for both safety and taste. It is not used to cause harm, but to bring joy.” Wonka paused to adjust his jacket.
“But surely,” Dumbledore said, leafing through his notes, “you cannot deny that you illegally charmed several thousand muggle artifacts?”
“Ah, but I can,” Wonka said, now twirling his cap in his hands. “Muggle artifact refers, of course, to any muggle made object. But, you see, I built those machines, each and every one. They are not muggle machines at all, but wizarding machines, built by a wizard. The factory itself, as well. You could argue that, as machines are a muggle invention, I still broke the rules, but then I could argue that every wizard dwelling with any charms applied to its walls is in violation of the law, as muggles were the first to make bricks.”
The Wizengamot glared silently. He was right, of course. Violating the spirit of the law was not illegal if one followed the letter.
“And the last charge? These are definitely Muggle children, are they not? No magical talent, raised in muggle society?” Dumbledore straightened his glasses and peered down at Wonka, his eyes still bright with intrigue.
“Not at all,” Wonka grinned, placing his hat back on his head. “You see, the ticket system was not nearly so random as I pretended. The tickets were charmed, they would only becomes visible to children with magical heritage. All the children chosen were second generation Squibs.” Wonka bowed low, as if he were finishing a particularly well executed play.
“Well, ladies and gentlemen, it seems no laws were violated after all.” Dumbledore stifled a grin at the groans of angry disapproval from the Wizengamot.
“But he very clearly violated the intent of the rules!” Spluttered a large, rather red faced wizard in the second row. “He’s just…cheating! He’s cheating!”
“Ah, this is true, but he did not, technically speaking, break any of the rules. He did not expose muggles to magic, nor enchant muggle made objects, nor improperly apply magic anymore so than any magical confectioner. I’m afraid we have to let him go.” Dumbledore smiled gently and put away the rather thick file with Wonka’s name embossed on the cover. For the brief second it was open, a list of hundreds of charges with “Not Guilty” inked beside them was visible. It was carried off by a house elf, and the Wizengamot began to file out until only Dumbledore was left.
“You’re a very clever man,” He called down to Wonka. “We could use you at Hogwarts, you know.”
“No thank you,” Wonka called back, grinning. “Skirting the law is far more fun!”
I’d prevviously said ‘Yes! Gene Wilder! Wonk!’. Now there’s pics.
BUT…
OMG.
MS. FRIZZLE! (and the MAGIC School Bus).
She must be before the Wizengamot ALL the TIME.
(Is her excuse; ‘Well, it’s educational’???? And it WORKS?!!)
Cornelius Fudge sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. Behind him, the members of the Wizengamot muttered amongst themselves, wondering what his next move would be. When he finally looked up from his podium, all he could do was glare at the chipper redheaded woman perched on the arm of the interrogation seat in the Pit. A bright green lizard poked its head out of the collar of her planet patterned dress and skittered around her shoulders to stare back at him.
“Mrs. Valerie…” He checked the file again. “Frizzle?”
“Good morning, Minister!” She replied happily, a hint of a laugh in her voice.
“It’s 3:30 in the afternoon, Madam,” He replied. He was tired.
“Here yes, but in America, its 10:30 in the morning! Aren’t time zones incredible?” She smiled and he could see all her teeth.
Fudge’s eye twitched irritably and he took a deep, steadying breath.
“Do you know why you’ve been called before the Wizengamot today, Mrs. Frizzle?” He asked, shuffling the papers from her file.
“I’m probably in trouble,” she smiled serenely, absentmindedly petting the lizard. “That is, after all, what the Wizengamot deals in!”
Fudge stifled a groan as he began leafing through her file. He didn’t even know where to begin. “Mrs. Frizzle, you are charged with no less than two hundred and thirty two counts of violating the Statute of Secrecy. Note that this is one count for each muggle known to be exposed to magic through your actions, and not a reflection of how many actions you have taken.” He drew out a page from the file. “Actions that include unlawful use of a sentience charm upon a muggle bus, unlawful use on that same bus of indestructibility charms and some sort of curse or hex that made the damn thing not only unresponsive and utterly unusable to anyone but yourself and your students, but also made us unable to decharm, move or even hide it, several unlawful uses of shrinking charms, bubble head charms, transfiguration, and at least one unregistered charm of your own making that allowed you to leave the planet entirely!” He slammed his hand down on the podium. “Do you have anything at all to say for yourself?!”
Mrs. Frizzle smiled politely. “Prime Minister,” she said calmly, “With all due respect, I have a question for you. Have you ever captured lightning in a bottle?”
“Have I- What?” Fudge spluttered, taken aback by her odd question.
“Have you ever captured lightening in a bottle?” She repeated, eyes flashing.
“Of course I haven’t, what sort of nonsense-” He began, but she threw up her hand and interrupted him.
“Muggles have. They’ve known how to use the same energy that comprises lightening to light their homes for over 100 years now. They can generate what amounts to lightening in a bottle with water, or the light and heat from the sun, or the wind. They can carry music in their pockets. They have been able, for nearly 30 years now, to leave the Earth and stand on the Moon.” Mrs. Frizzle straightened her dress. “I have, yes, been using my magic to help teach my students, but what I’ve been teaching them is science! It’s a shame that we don’t learn science as children the way muggles do. They know how the planets move! They know why the Earth turns! Muggles have a wealth of knowledge that rivals that of the centaurs, and we just,” She gestures around incredulously. “We just ignore it! Did you know they are able to not only capture movement, but also sound on film? It’s incredible!”
Fudge waved a hand to silence the incensed grumbling of the Wizengamot. “Mrs. Frizzle,” he hissed angrily. “It does not matter how many trinkets and non-magical work-arounds the muggles have made, regardless of how incredible you find them. Their ‘science’ is not on trial here, you are, for exposing muggles to magic!”
“Minister, you do know my students are all muggle borns,” Mrs. Frizzle said, perhaps a touch angrily, her usual enthusiasm for science replaced by an anger at tech marvels being referred to as ‘trinkets’.
“They’re not the only ones who have seen your…Magic Bus!” Fudge roared, slamming his fist on the podium and eliciting a dull rumble of approval from the Wizengamot. “Mrs. Frizzle, since you have failed to mount a defense, we will now take a vote. All in favor of conviction?”
A sea of hands shot into the air.
“All opposed?”
2 or 3 hands were placed waveringly in the air, then quickly fell.
“Mrs. Frizzle, you are found guilty of 232 counts of breaking the Statute of Secrecy. The wand you surrendered upon entering the Ministry will be kept, and you are fined in the amount of 1,160 galleons. If you cannot pay this fine, you will be given a job on low level staff or doing community service until such time as the debt is paid. Good day.” Fudge closed her file and handed it the the Junior Undersecretary, who ferried it back to the Hall of Records.
Mrs. Frizzle stomped out, angry but not ready to give up. Luckily for her, they hadn’t taken her backup wand. She had classes tomorrow, after all, and they couldn’t very well explore the world of pollen without a proper shrinking charm. She made a mental note to stop by her cousin Xenophillius’ house to pick up her backup to her backup. She loved his house. Shaped like a chess peice, can you imagine?
This is why the Wizarding World of Harry Potter is just so…..dumb.
I think you’re all forgetting the obvious… Mary Poppins.
“Back again, Mary?” Dumbledore twinkled at the woman in the
felt hat standing ramrod straight in front of the chair in the pit. She’d
always been one of his favourite students.
I made these in response to hate crimes in my community. They are full size and free to download and print if you’d like to use them, too.
Since these are going around, I wanted to fill in some of the gaps! Here are seven more posters for communities under threat. As with the first set, these are completely free to download, print, share, repost, etc with no credit needed. This is open source activism.
Reading about abusive men and the way they think. Very unsettling and an incredible book so far. Here are my very professional notes.
what book is this?
This is from “Why Does He DO That” by Lundy Bancroft.
I’m so glad I’m seeing more and more Lundy Bancroft quotes on my dash because this book CHANGES THE LIVES OF ABUSE VICTIMS.
The programs run for rehabilitating abusive men through the courts? Bancroft DESIGNED THEM. His programs are replicated ALL OVER THE WORLD. He literally wrote THE book on abuser rehabilitation.
Can we talk about how it seems like the entirety of the book is online on PDF, this making it accessible to anyone with an internet connection?
That is how we stop abuse.
We enable everyone to know what it looks like, so that when it happens, they can shut it down.
Arm yrself with knowledge!
Changed my life, would reccomend.
Reblogging for the PDF link.
—BB
Always reblogging because this isn’t just a partner abuse thing, this is a common abuse tactic PERIOD: Parents, siblings, bosses, general assholes, etc…
Pretty sure I’ve reblogged this like eight times, don’t care.
“Always reblogging because this isn’t just a partner abuse thing, this is a common abuse tactic PERIOD: Parents, siblings, bosses, general assholes, etc…”
alternative depression tips for when you read the ‘depression tips’ post and laugh hollowly, bc only in your fondest dreams could you manage to do any of those things
dry shampoo and face wipes are your friend. if you can brush your teeth you’ll feel maybe 2% less disgusting. wash your hands.
smelling nice is gr9, rubbing moisturiser in is Exhausting. perfume, scented candles and linen sprays are way quicker.
try to change your clothes at least every other day. wear sweats or pjs as often as you physically can.
you don’t need to put on underwear if you’re not leaving the house (that goes double for bras and binders)
drink any water that hasn’t been sitting out on your desk for a week. dust doesn’t taste good. stay hydrated. I fill one of those 2 litre bottles in the morning and keep it with me so I don’t have to get up and walk to the sink.
re: cleaning, try and keep one room vaguely clean. if everywhere else is a shit hole that’s fine, but you can go sit in your one tidy space and chill for a bit. it’s fine if that’s the bathroom or just the corner of your bedroom where there’s no crap on the floor. find a tiny space that isn’t horrifying and sit in it.
music helps.
eat a thing. +5 points if it has a fresh fruit or vegetable in it. take out is acceptable if it comes with veggies.
if your creativity curled up and died a long time ago try and find something that at least reminds you what it was like to feel inspired. watch a film, look at some art (probably not your own), read a thing. if that makes you feel worse, just?? don’t think about it??
grounding yourself is actually really helpful. open the window and breathe for 2 minutes. lay down on the floor and feel your whole body (unless you don’t want to in which case: lay down and don’t feel anything except the floor)
human interaction is Good. text a family member you don’t hate if you have one. message a friend. reply to someone’s personal post with ‘SAME’. make your own personal post asking the void for validation. stare out the window at people and remind yourself that life exists outside of the black space inside your head. whatever works.
pets are amazing, agreed. watch some funny animal vines if you don’t have one.
My bummy ass seriously needed this 2 fucking days ago
Man though you know what makes me sorta sad is when nerdy, “quiet” kids latch on to me during camp and they just talk and talk and talk about a thing they’re into (Skyrim, Pokemon, Harry Potter, Doctor Who, dinosaurs, whatever). And I see the kids just light up when they say something and I can chime in with an ‘oh hey, are you talking about [x]? I love that thing! Tell me more about it.’
Like, their parents will warn me ‘so-and-so is pretty quiet and hard to engage’ but no, man, just listen, your kid is so smart and so into This Thing, they’ll engage like fuck and talk your damn ear off it you let them. Frame it in their damn terms. Or! Just! Listen to them about their Thing! And they will engage with the rest of the material! Because they know you care about them! Amazing!!!
Quiet kids are usually that way because either no one listens, or there is always someone more dominant speaking wise in their group that always talks over them and then they give up. Some quiet kids are starved for attention and really really want to talk, but don’t always get the chance to
Everyone who reblogged this are good people. Bless you, this made me happy to read
