dealing with the crushing blow of finding out my patronus

Life can be incredibly shit sometimes, as I may have mentioned sometime before. This year alone has been completely horrendous – which I have also mentioned – what with the death of Alan Rickman and my birthday falling on a Monday, and I’ve been dealt yet another crushing blow this November from none other than Pottermore.

Although life can be incredibly shit I have always found solace in the fact that Harry Potter exists. Harry Potter, most epic of tales, exists. Thank the sweet baby Jesus, Mary, Joseph and Kanye West that Harry Potter exists. And there’s an online world too, so when life is feeling incredibly shit (thanks 2016) I can just hop on Pottermore and live my true wizarding life devoid of annoying Muggles and tragic deaths and other alarming things (like the fact that my birthday was on a Monday this year).

So imagine my utter delight when I found out I could now discover my patronus on the internet!!! My very own official spirit animal to ward off those pesky dementors that have been following me around all year. A. Patronus. For. Me. Fucking brilliant. Somewhere in all that jubilant celebration I must’ve forgot that it’s 2016, and of course that means that there had to be some horrific undertone to this fantastic news.

So there I am, trying to log into Pottermore, screaming “I’m gonna find out my fucking patronus” and listening to “Come On Eileen” at full volume when I’m faced with the screen of death: the 404 error. You would’ve thought with a website as popular as Pottermore launching a way to find your fucking patronus that they would’ve invested in a little magic to keep the site live long enough for true wizards (me) to find out what their p a t r o n u s is, but no. Alas, earwax. Anyway this shit went on for weeks while I attempted to log into the site and yet still I was unable to source my true patronus on the internet, and perhaps it should’ve stayed that way but I was beyond fuming and determined to get the lowdown, so of course I didn’t relent.

Anyway even this Tweet didn’t bring me any closer to my patronus which I found both shocking and appalling, for when the site eventually began responding they wanted me to re-fucking-register and go through all the shite setup admin that I went through back in the Dark Ages when Pottermore first began. What a fucking liberty. I Tweeted my ire about this too because I am one passive aggressive bastard:

This tale isn’t entirely terrible though I must admit, as on my re-registering I had to be re-sorted, which is a luxury that not many witches, wizards, squibs or muggles ever get, let’s be honest. And I was re-sorted into Slytherin, which is clearly my true spiritual home as I do nothing but complain about the world and curse everyone in it (I’m looking at you, Donald Trump).


Following a short victory dance at being sorted into Slytherin, 2016 remembered it was a load of shit and decided to punish me again. When I finally made it through the excitement of the atmospheric music and the little annoying quiz this was it – the big one, the moment I’d waited for for fucking weeks – it was time to reveal my patronus.

Do you know what it was? It was a fucking vole. Honestly you couldn’t write this shit, a fucking vole has been sent from the wizarding world to protect me from evil dementors. A vole. A. Vole. What’s it gonna do when faced with a dementor, bare its little buck teef and terrify it away? I seriously despair with this year.

rare photo of a dementor-slaying beast

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