I LOVE the trope where a character who's secretly suicidal/mentally unwell is in a situation where the people they're close to finds out about it. There should be a tag for this specific situation.
“Your mother was quite the talented Potions Witch, Harry. She could brew anything from Wolfsbane to meth. It was truly a sight to behold”
“WHAT?!”
“Well, how did you think they kept me in check during the full moon?” Lupin replied calmly. “The Potions professor in our era was nowhere near as good as Snape is today, so I had to get my Wolfsbane from somewhere.”
“NO, I MEAN THE METH THING!” Harry shouted. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY MOTHER COOKED METH?!”
“Well, she didn't at first. But the Order was running out of money during the war, and we needed a way to convince the residents of Knockturn Alley not to side with Voldemort. Your mother provided a solution.”
Lupin nodded thoughtfully.
“She introduced us to a wonderful Muggle substance called meth. We had Mundungus deal it in Knockturn Alley. It made us enough money to last through the war, and the residents agreed not to side with Voldemort as long as we kept supplying them.”
“I—WHAT—WAIT—MY MOTHER WAS—HOW DID SHE EVEN—WHAT?!”
“Oh, don't worry, Harry. She stopped cooking after she became pregnant with you. For your health, she said.” Lupin tried to placate him.
Harry stared at him, utterly speechless.
“...Of course, it turned out that Voldemort had been buying from her supply. When she stopped, he went on a rampage trying to get his fix. He even broke into your parents' house in a fit of withdrawal, hoping to force her to cook for him again.”
Lupin paused.
“Unfortunately, he ended up killing her by accident.”
“...”
“...Did nobody tell you about this?”
Harry Potter, cornered by Umbridge after she discovers the DA meeting, desperately scrambles for an excuse.
“We’re the Hogwarts Pride Club!”
Umbridge sneers. “Why would the Hogwarts Pride Club be called DUMBLEDORE’S ARMY?!”
Harry pauses.
“Er… well, Dumbledore’s gay, right?”
Hermione buries her face in her hands over Umbridge’s left shoulder.
Ron, over Umbridge’s right shoulder, smiles, nods approvingly and gives Harry a thumbs-up.
Meanwhile, Fred and George quietly get to work. Within seconds, half the DA members are pairing up with random students of the same gender, looking as though they’ve been caught in the middle of a very wholesome club meeting.
Umbridge scowls.
“Well! Pride Club or not, you’re still breaking numerous Educational Decrees! You’re all in big trouble!”
Harry looks genuinely disappointed.
“Professor Umbridge! Don’t tell me… you’re not homophobic, are you?”
The room goes silent.
Fred slowly turns to George.
George slowly turns to Fred.
Neither of them says a word, but the look they exchange suggests they’ve just witnessed the birth of their greatest prank yet.
And somewhere behind Umbridge, Hermione is already planning how to explain to McGonagall that the DA has somehow become a civil rights movement.
"Chale" es la expresión más nihilista que puedes encontrar en el argot mexicano. Es la pérdida total de la esperanza, una ausencia de sentido, con una dosis microscópica de un estoicismo que se rehúsa a desaparecer.
*Harry y Malfoid lo hacen en los baños*
Ron Weasley afuera de los baños lanzando su expelliarmus con su varita rota contra Snape para que no interrumpa mientras su mejor amigo debuta: