You’re a Justin Timberlake fan, a chocolate ice cream kind of person, an iced soy vanilla latte aficianado. You have solid taste, but it’s pretty mainstream. And there’s nothing wrong in that! You most likely grew up with Harry, felt his pain, felt your heart flutter when he developed crushes, and navigated the weird world of being a teenager (magic or otherwise) with him. Sure, you never faced death or the embodiment of evil, but you went through some pretty gnarly things in your adolescence. Harry was your pubescent teddy bear, and you still hug him close. I can’t blame you — growing up is a pretty lonely time, and sometimes you just need to feel like someone gets you.
For you, life is all about the redemption story. Sure, you do a few things you regret every now and again, and sure, you say things you don’t mean — but the point is, you don’t mean them. The point is, you come back after you leave your friends to fend for themselves when you get lost and bewildered and misread signs and signals and think they’re creeping on your crush. The point is, you apologize when you’re an idiot. This trait will take you a long way. (But you’re also really good for a laugh, so we cool, buddy, we cool.)
You have always been the smart one. Always. If you weren’t studying in the library, you were reading for fun, or you were correcting someone on their grammar on Facebook, or you were busy nailing your thesis (when your major didn’t require a thesis.) You’ve often felt like maybe this knowledge made your weird, or that people liked you less for it, but held out hope that one day, someone would love you because of your brains, not your beauty. (You also liked Belle from Beauty and the Beast.)
You’re not like other girls, you’re a cool girl… but other pop culture-crossovers aside, you were either A) always the girl with the boyfriend, or B) always the girl who WANTED to have a boyfriend, and so you latched onto the unrequited-requited-unrequited-but-we-can’t-be-together-okay-fine-we’ll-be-together drama that was Harry and Ginny. Finally, someone understood you! All you ever wanted was love! All you ever needed was to love and be loved in return! I would like to tell you to take some time and relish in being single, but I know you won’t listen to me. And that’s okay. Sometimes, you just need to be the person with a weird-ass love life. Everyone has a friend with a weird-ass love life.
Fred and/or George Weasley
If you like both of them together, chances are good that you have a best friend with whom you do absolutely everything. You finish each other’s sandwiches/sentences, you laugh together, you cry together, you play pranks on unsuspecting victims together. You probably even dress alike. If you prefer one over the other, you are very much the kind of person who swears that Fiji water tastes better than “other water,” and I’m sure you honestly believe that because you talked yourself into believing it, but hey, you do you. (And if you prefer Fred to George, you are just a masochist.)
You have latent dreams of marrying a famous athlete and parlaying his fame into your own by means of a reality show. Look, it is a thriving economy and I salute your ruthless ambition. Just remember that martinis and glasses of wine are the best drinks to throw in other people’s faces.
You’ve always felt a little… well, off in your hometown. Misunderstood. Unappreciated. Like you didn’t belong. Maybe you felt like you were supposed to be born in a different country, and you promptly fled your homeland in favor of the expatriate life somewhere else. Somewhere where people knew you appreciated the finer things in life and the magic of a culture that was not yours by birth. Embrace that wanderlust, my friend. Live that dream.
You are either a mom, know that being a mom is your one calling in life, or, at the very least, are the person to whom all your friends turn like some great big mama bird of the group. And this is fine by you. Your domesticity is on point, and should anyone ever dare to cross either you or the people you love, oooooh man, are you going to let them have it (even if the people who cross you are the people you love.)
You have a flair for the dramatic, and like your things a little twisted. At your core, you’re a good person, but you like pushing that envelope of what you can and cannot get away with. You probably also like Viserys Targaryen, King Joffrey, and/or Scott Disick, and are inexplicably drawn to the people who will stop at nothing in order to get what they want. But for all your bravado, you’re still as unsure about life as the rest of us. Go toward the light, my friend. Also, yes, do it already. Go blonde. It’s just hair. You’ll be fine.
You self-identify as a badass bitch from Hell, and while you might go a little too far to prove that you are the baddest and best, I am frankly too terrified to go deeper into why this might or might not be a problem. Just. You know. Maybe let up on the ball-crushing, power-wielding life a little. It’s okay to not be intimidating every now and again.
I C U, Twilight fan. O, I C U alrite.
You are a deeply spiritual individual, and probably meditate and read books about the power of love and do a lot of yoga. You’re serene and calm, but when someone gets you angry, whoa nelly. You’re also the most deeply invested in metaphor of anyone you know, and routinely turn even the most mundane things into the greatest symbols and signs of your life. There is a reason for everything, you believe. There will always be a reason for everything.
What you lack in smarts or skills, you make up for in honest affection. You are the friend to whom people turn when they want unwavering support, and you have love in your heart for everyone at all times, always. You were also the kid who always asked mom if you could keep every dog you saw, stray or otherwise, and probably left out food for any critter that you ever saw in your backyard — cat, raccoon, possum, or otherwise. (Also, your favorite character on Game of Thrones is Daenerys, because I mean. Dragons.)
Wrong place, wrong time. That was the story of your childhood. You were always getting in trouble for your siblings’ antics — and like, yeah, okay, maybe you deserved to get reprimanded every now and again, but the extent of your rebel ways were more rock star and less drug-addled rock star. But even rock stars have their flair for dramatics, and your favorite people have always been the ones with whom you could corroborate to really make things happen. You are also deeply loyal, and would stop at nothing to protect and defend your friends.
You are a woefully misunderstood individual. Even people who sympathize with whatever plight you’re going through don’t really “get” it, and you often resent them for being able to live their lives without much strife. And so, when you find someone who is equally as troubled, you cling, and you cling hard.
You always, always go for the glorified bad boys. (You probably cried when Heath Ledger died, let’s be honest here.) Your taste in friends might be a little eclectic, but you know it also takes all kinds. You also typically want what you can’t have, and are idealistically chasing the honor that comes with unfettered, honest glory.
You believe in true love. The Notebook true love. Peanut butter and chocolate true love. Romeo and Juliet, Posh and Becks, til death do we part – and oh boy, do you take that until death clause seriously. Love, to you, absolves all sins, and it’s worth going through any lengths. You’ll even justify bad life choices if you know they were done with love in mind. Whatever the actual outcome, if love was the reason? It’s okay by you. (I’m not saying this is a sound philosophy, but it’s admirable. Few people these days would admit to being as hopelessly romantic as you.)
You are all for the power of women. To you, mental strength and intelligence are sexy, and you’d much rather be wise than hot. Nothing gets past you, and you aren’t afraid to kick ass and show people just how deeply they underestimated you. Also, I have a feeling you are a hardcore Hillary lobbyist.
You’ve always been proud of the fact that you’re, well, a little off. You revel in it. You take the idea of “staying weird” to heart, and always try to out-weird yourself. Your Tumblr and your Pinterest board are utterly devoted to the most obscure fandoms, and you admire Luna not because she’s just as weird as you are, but because she doesn’t let the haters ever get to her. She believes what she believes in, and you believe in her, too.
[photo not available because nothing is sacred and Warner Bros. still owes us this]
Ever the life of the party, you’re not afraid to rile up the masses a little in order to break the tension or get a laugh in. Sure, sometimes you overestimate that fine, fine line between funny and mean, but you know that every party needs its firestarter, every class its clown. Your sense of humor is twisted to the point of being perverse, and you probably have a pretty solid comedy Twitter following. You do you, lil stand up. Chase that comedy dream.
You are a deeply twisted individual, and like, okay, I know that it’s not nice to call people names, but I am guessing you also really like Sid from Toy Story and had a penchant for burning ants under the sun’s glare through magnifying glasses when you were a kid. There is genuinely no good reason for favoring a character who is just so overwhelmingly evil and twisted and tormented. Even if you had an abysmal childhood. This is a cry for an intervention. Let us get you help.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. You believe in the redemption, in choosing your own path, in underdogs proving their own worth, and all of that. But you also believe in ugly ducklings and beautiful, beautiful swans. Because, my friend, let’s face it: Neville is great and all, but making that investment in pudgy, plant-happy Longbottom means you got to watch Matthew Lewis grow up into Matthew Lewis. Would you mind helping me out with my stock options? I trust your judgment.