THIS IS WHAT ANARCHY LOOKS LIKE.
Hope for the future.
This kid is incredible.
THIS POST IS BACK ON MY DASH AND I WILL NEVER NOT REBLOG ANARCHIST LIBRARIAN KID.
FOUR FOR YOU ANARCHIST LIBRARIAN KID, YOU GO ANARCHIST LIBRARIAN KID
Saw this somewhere else and felt the need to post it cause no one else ever really tells you this stuff
My mom never really noticed. She noticed when she was breast feeding my little brother and blood started coming out instead of milk.
My mom said she felt and saw a little lump in the shower. She was lucky enough she found it at stage 2
My mom had a mammogram. The radiologist thought the spots were just regular calcium deposits.
Turns out it was triple negative breast cancer that had spread to her lymph nods. Mastectomy, radiation and chemo saved her life.
This could SAVE a life.
dont be embarrassed to reblog, this post could be life saving
Signal BOOST and pass it on. I had a breast cancer scare before (luckily it was just scar tissue…) and information like this kept me calm and collected at the doc’s.
As a cancer patient myself, who found my own cancer through a supposed LARPing injury last year, i know how scary it is and how important it is to catch it early. Please spread this around!
listen to ur boobs
its all in the boobs
hoW MANY TIMES AM I GOING TO REBLOG THIS ! SORRY FOLLOWERS , #sorrynotsorry
REBLOG,THIS COULD SAVE SOMEBODY!!! DONT BE EMBARRASSED!!!
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