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Look at me… I will never pass for a perfect bride. Or a perfect daughter. Can it be, I’m not meant to play this part? Now I see, that if I were truly to be myself, I would break my family’s heart. Who is that girl I see, staring straight back at me? Why is my reflection someone I don’t know? Somehow I cannot hide who I am, though I’ve tried. When will my reflection show who I am inside?

(Source: woodburyy)

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queernymphadora:

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riversnogs:

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That moment in your childhood when you realize that Diagon Alley is just the word diagonally….

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And the Mirror of Erised is just the word desire backwards.

Didn’t even realize. Does that mean Knockturn Alley is nocturnally (dark/night)?

Yes, and Grimmauld Place is a play on grim old place. 

DUDE.

And Dumbledore is just a dumb old door

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