my headcanon sirius has a magic tattoo of a moon on his upper left shoulder and it changes to match the phase of the moon so he never forgets even in azkaban bye
this is the worst thing to ever happen to me
Careful, honey, it’s loaded,” he said, reentering the bedroom.
Her back rested against the headboard. “This for your wife?”
“No. Too chancy. I’m hiring a professional.”
“How about me?”
He smirked. “Cute. But who’d be dumb enough to hire a lady hit man?”
She wet her lips, sighting along the barrel.
OH before I go to bed I should convey to you all the weirdest fact I learned today
I learned that when a caterpillar is metamorphosing into a butterfly within the cocoon, it is not, as I previously assumed, slowly growing wings and little antennae and whatever else. If we open a cocoon, apparently what we find is that the caterpillar has actually dissolved into a shapeless goo, from which the butterfly will be formed.
From which the butterfly is formed.
You can, of course, go the philosophical route with this: are they, then, the same creature, pre- and post- this complete reconstitution of the self? If the very brain, the nervous system, has been completely reassembled, how do we identify this as in any way the same?
So here’s the kicker.
Apparently one scientist figured he’d test this out by training a bunch of caterpillars to react negatively to a specific scent, which they would normally not react negatively to. This was all done prior to the cocoon stage.
And these butterflies. These post-goo, completely remade selves? They reacted negatively to the scent, too.