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Nov. 28th, 2007

miss bennet

Hush, you; I'm writing!

So the labyfic drabble exchange has started, and I have recieved my prompt.  Since I am not sure if I'm supposed to share my prompts, I shall resist.  Though I might end up mixing at least two of the prompts together... they fit well.  Prepare yourselves for a tongue-in-cheek romance featuring Jareth, Sarah, Sir Didymus and the gang!  It'll be hard not to make it fluffy, I think.  People tend to take my lighthearted sense of humor as fluff-ness, but I digress.  I'm only amusing when I'm doing the tongue-in-cheek thing or when I'm saying things for the shock factor, and I don't think a joke about Hoggle's recent anorectoplasty would go over well.  

zomg, squick, ew.   .....Moving on!

Anyways, I am working on a great many things these days, which include:

- Fanart: for Dramatic Orchestrations by ergott. Kind of like cover art (if it was a book), with Jareth looking in on Sarah, and crystals with difference scenes from the story flying around him.  Quite the undertaking, eh?
-Fanart: The-Labyrinth-Club's Seven Deadly Sins contest and challenge.  I'm working on the sin of Pride-- I was going to do Wrath, but then I found this wonderful poem by the lovely Emily Dickinson...  It'll be awesome.
-Fanart: "To Eternity", "Sarah and the Goblins", "The Secret Life of Daydreams", "Bernadette" and "Two Legacies"
-Fanfiction: labyfic drabble exchange
-Fanfiction: What Sarah Said is a piece of love, love lost and the lessons we learn far too late.
-Fanfiction: My monster piece that you will probably never see. *sticks out tongue*  Nevermind it contains a female OC (dude, don't tell me-- she's only six and she's nothing like me, I swear) named Bernadette.  

Alas, I am off to sketch, and perhaps redo some of my D.O. fanart piece.  Ciao!

Nov. 23rd, 2007


Labyrinth Fashion: rich with historical influences, or an eighties nightmare?

This is a reference for making fanart for the Labyrinth.  I'll probably be the only one using it, but that's just as well.  

I've had quite The Problem figuring out what the hell the costume designer for the Labyrinth was thinking.  No, it's not that I don't like the costumes; on the contrary!  It's just that I've been trying to pinpoint where the %#$! in history this person took their inspiration.  One, there's a masquerade.  (Which, I'm told, is common in the Renaissance.)  Two, the waistline for Sarah's ballgown is at the waist (which suggests, again, Renaissance).  But look at Jareth's clothing!  His clothes are a myriad of styles and, most of the time, are just gothic/fantasy clothes.  However, I'm going to say the costume designer was influenced by Regency tailcoats and such.  Hence the high waistline on the vest/coat and the high-looking "breeches".  (Dude, that's spandex.  I don't care what you guys think, he's wearing spandex, not breeches or pants or whatever.  Then again, the very thought of using the word spandex when describing Jareth's attire-- which every fanfic author does-- makes me cringe.)
So, in conclusion, the costumes are an eighties nightmare, but I don't think anyone would have it any other way.

Wait, why was I trying to figure this out?  Because I love historical fashion, and also because I wanted to make Jareth some more outfits, in more or less the same style.  I'm tired of drawing him in a cravat, no matter how much I love cravats.  Also, because I was wondering about Underground fashion trends, and, following that, their culture(as well as architectural influences).  How much does the Aboveground influence the Underground?  I know people think medieval when they think about fantasy, but for the labyrinth, that's just so not true as far as clothes go.  Yes, Jareth has a castle.  But is it a medieval castle?  I have no idea, since architecture's so not my forte.  As long as it looks pretty, I'm good. 

I find it interesting that in all the stories I've ever read only Dryad13 mentions clothing eras.  It was a nice little twist, showing the difference between what the younger (as far as the age of the society) Shining Ones typically wore and what Jareth wears.  It just showed, in a small way, the difference between the Goblin Kingdom and the court of the fae.

I'm also working the backstory for a fanfic.  The premise is this: that a city in the Underground (the capital, I'm thinking) "fell" into the earth at a certain point in history.  I've been trying to design their culture and it's been tough going.  Do I have them wear the clothes of that society when it "fell"?  No; I decided against that.  I actually am thinking that they'll follow earth fashions and developments up until "when people stopped believing", or around when technology started to develop.  After that, they stop watching the Aboveground and develop on their own.

Is that interesting?  Cliche?  Whatever?  I'm trying to be vague on purpose, because I've got a specific culture(I'm doing a research paper on it in art history, actually) in mind and I dont want to give things away.  It's such a great idea (the part I didn't really say) that I want to keep it to myself until I have the kinks worked out.

Anyways, I'm off to go write some more of the story I mentioned.  I finished most of a scene last night and I really love it.  I want to show it to someone, but Chester isn't online and Lady_Ergott is visiting relatives with dial-up connection.  Oh, poopsicles.

Nov. 21st, 2007

blue tinge

"...The final sentence you ever uttered to me was Love..."

So I've been ruminating on my favorite obsession.  

In art, which is my Ultimate Obsession,  I am often inspired by music.  So I have decided to compile a list of songs that remind me of Sarah and Jareth.  I did mention a few songs to Lady_Ergott, but I wanted to list a few more, for my own records, and for later inspiration.

On to the list!

Songs with lyrics:
The Fray - Look After You
The Fray - All At Once
    "There are certain people you just keep coming back to."
Frou Frou - It's Good To Be In Love
    "...'cause every color goes where you do."
Jimmy Eat World - Polaris
    "They say that love goes anywhere.  In your darkest time, it's just enough to know it's there."
Snow Patrol - You Could Be Happy
    "And all the things that I wish I had not said are played in loops, 'till it's madness in my head..."
Snow Patrol - Set the Fire to the Third Bar
   "We'd share each other like an island, until, exhausted, close our eyelids... and dreaming, pcik up from the last place we left off."
Snow Patrol - Make This Go On Forever
    "The final word in the final sentence you ever uttered to me was love."
Death Cab For Cutie - What Sarah Said (At the moment I'm writing a fic for this song.)
    "But I'm thinking of what Sarah said..."
KT Tustall - Through the Dark
    "As I walk away, I look over my shoulder to see what I'm leaving behind.  Pieces of puzzles and wishes on eyelashes fail... Oh, how do I show all of the love that's in my heart?"
Coldplay - Kingdom Come
   "For you I wait, 'till Kingdom Come, until my day, my day is done..."
Coldplay - The Hardest Part
   "And I tried to sing, but I couldn't think of anything-- that was the hardest part."

Songs with no lyrics:
Jean-Yves Thibaudet - A Postcard to Henry Purcell
Jean-Yves Thibaudet - The Secret Life of Butterflies (I am doing fanart for this song right now.)
Philip Glass - Something She Has To Do

So if anyone sees this and would like to recommend a song or two that they thought related to Jareth and Sarah, or any part of The Labyrinth, comment!  I'd love to hear from you.  I'm always looking to expand my music library, especially with songs that I can "draw to".

Nov. 20th, 2007


You are my Vanilla.

I'd like to introduce you all to a friend of mine.  Okay, we're not exactly aquaintances, let alone friends, but with all this David Bowie obsession running around I'd like to introduce: The David Bowie of Japan, also known as Gackt. 
Have you ever wondered if there was an equivalent to american and english rockstars/celebrities in other cultures?  Kind of like, say, hollywood and baliwood.  Well wonder no more!  It's true, there is a man as bizzare as David Bowie ever was, in Japan.  
Simularities: odd lyrics in their music, musical talent, acting talent, notorious as well as famous...  Gackt does claim he is a 200-something year-old vampire.  
Even better, a friend of mine had me listen to some of his music... a prime example is his song, Vanilla.  I liked it, so I kept the file.  I was listening to it one day and had to pause it and backtrack.  "Did he just say something about an ecologist...?"  YES HE DID.  Not only that, he said this: "atsui mana zasshi ni wa ecologist."

What does this mean?!

It means, my friends, "You are hot like an ecologist".  I got the chance to backtrack even more, and the line before it is.... wait for it.... "You're cool, like plastic."  Some days it makes perfect sense, and others it makes me want to gouge my eyes out, over and over. 


*runs from flying tomatoes*  Later folks!

Nov. 15th, 2007

world falls down


Lately I've been caught up in Evanescence music and reading Labyrinth fanfiction, my newest escape from reality. If you go to my deviantart, you can see a new piece I drew in photoshop to the song My Snow White Queen by Evanescence. Even more awesomeness: lady_ergott is working on a fanfic to go with it!  I told her I might just do some fanart for the fanfic that was written for some fanart... Now I'm seriously thinking about that, lol.  
What's the incentive for all this Labyrinth Obsessiveness?  A dream, actually.  Sometimes I have dreams that I do not take part in; it's like I'm watching a story unfold in my head. This was one of them.  I dont remember much except for Sarah (in a ball gown), Jareth, some castle hallways, and a ballroom filled with dancing nobles and (oddly enough) fireys.  How cliche!  Anyways, it intrigued me enough for me to start looking up labyrinth fanfiction.  Oddly, this whole dream came from out of the blue.  I havent watched the Labyrinth lately or even listened to David Bowie at all... weird. 

Sep. 20th, 2007

blue tinge

"..I suspect she just wants to be on my head."

The title is something my mother just said to me, in reference to my cat.

So I really have been reading a lot of fanfiction these days; sorry that I was gone for so long. I'm out of inspiration for Truth Beyond Itself at the moment, I'm sad to say. The truth is (lol) that I've been reading a lot of GW fanfiction, which is, as you may know, my first love. I'm seriously thinking of starting a fic for Gundam W, with 1x2x1 pairing (of course), and lots of technobabble. I was really inspired by Jei's Axiomatic, which is, by the way, amazing, and will end up in one of my recc lists eventually.
I'm also thinking of taking this whole recc thing and getting a few people involved from different fandoms. Maybe I can get GW reccs restarted (what on earth happened to GWyaoi.org??); besides, I've been dying to get a website started lately.

Anyways, this keyboard is bothering me; I'm off to play the Sims2 Bon Voyage and drink some coffee. Ciao!

Jul. 13th, 2007

look up

Truth Beyond Itself: Chapter One

NOTE: This chapter has been edited heavily from its previous state.  Please re-read it!

    I’m in your books, playing with your Potters.

No, seriously, it’s not mine.  Do I look richer than the Queen?

Severitus. “…there is no other man I could have loved as much as I love Severus.  Your father may not know it, but I shall carry that love to my grave.”

Pairings, if any, will be RW/HG, and perhaps some Harry/Ginny.  However, this is not a romance story.  Don’t expect the pairings to be any more than a bit of side story. 
    There will be gore, hence the reason why this fic is rated M.  I assure you though, it is well-deserved gore.  Also, there will be a note on the specific chapters that include violence.  That said, I don’t think there’s anything else I need to warn you about.  Business as usual, I suppose.  THIS CHAPTER HAS GORE! ☺

Author’s Notes:
  So, due to my (deplorable, really) addiction to fanfiction, and also due to the fact that I have run out of good Severitus stories to read, I am (a week before the release of Deathly Hallows, no less) responding to the Severitus challenge.  This one promises to be a long one, and a helluva ride, so hang onto your hats, children.  I fully intend on having Harry defeat Voldemort and living happily ever after, but not after some dramatics, a few (deserved and not-so-deserved) deaths, and a healthy dose of my own special macabre humor.
    Another little change I’m going to make to the books (as well as the whole Snape-daddy thing) is how Voldemort has decided to “defeat” death.  Instead of trying to attain immortality the way he does in the Half-Blood Prince, he’s trying… a different way.  Oh, hush, it’s not creepy.  I think.  Hence, our story starts out right after Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. 
I’m also going to be incorporating as many theories, debunked or no, as I possibly can, so if you have an interesting idea or plot bunny, feel free to contact me and I’ll try to work it in. 
    This is also my first published piece of fanfiction, so please be kind.  It’s not as well-put together as some works out there, but I’m trying.  Also, I may edit things as I go along.  That’s what authors do, you know!  However, I will tell you when and where, if I do.  One more thing: pay attention to the quotes at the beginning of the chapters!  They’ll give you clues and such as to what the chapter will be about.  Enjoy, and don’t forget to review!

Fan-fiction by Garden Celandine

Chase after truth like all hell and you’ll free yourself, even though you never touch its coattails.
    -Clarence Darrow


    There was nothing you could do, Harry.

    It was the third letter Hermione had written to him, and he still hadn’t responded.  What in Merlin’s name could he say that wouldn’t instigate a whole new slew of letters from her, that all said the same thing as before?
    Such was the frequent theme of Hermione’s letters to him, and, far from making Harry feel better about causing the death of the remaining family he had, it made Harry feel that much worse.  There was something he could have done, should have done, but that time had passed.  There’s nothing I can do, now.
    Harry briefly considering laying into Hermione in his response, but checked the urge to do so.  He was trying to curb his nasty habit of lashing out at others.  It seems that every time someone dies, I make a new resolution.  At the rate I’m going, everyone will be dead before I’ll have become a decently behaved human being. 
    He cut off this train of thought, not wanting to think about what it would be like to not have anything left to fight for, and turned his awareness to the scene around him.
    Dudley’s Second Bedroom was a littered mess of old toys as usual, with a few minor signs of Harry’s existence accenting the deplorable décor.  The bluish tint of moonlight washed through the window; vague shapes of an old rocket launcher, a bicycle wheel, a grimy half-filled Sea Monkey tank and various other bits of clutter cast looming shadows around the room.  Harry himself sat slouched on the creaking, thinly covered bed in the corner opposite the window, absently noting the feel of a night breeze drafting through the thin curtains.  Privet Drive was perfectly silent, save for a lone cricket chirping from somewhere in the bushes.
    It had hardly been three weeks since Harry had been back, and already it was getting old.  Harry supposed he should be grateful for the Dursley’s lack of interest in, well, him, but he supposed it would be nice to talk to an actual human being sometime in the future.  Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia studiously ignored him.  Dudley was a little more entertaining; he skittered away from Harry like the boy was a leper.  Or a Dementor.

    Harry got up from the bed and went to the hallway to listen to his relative’s snoring.  This, he thought, is what is left of my family now.   It hadn’t occurred to him for a while now, just how much he yearned for a loving home; even an escaped convict had slaked some of his thirst for family, which was, obviously, in everyone else’s opinion, rather sad.  Harry knew it—he could see it in the eyes of Mrs. Weasley and Hermione.  Thinking of Snape, Harry reminded himself swallow his pride and attempt to tender some sort of apology to the man for the pensieve incident.  Not only did he feel rotten that his dad was such a… bully, but being vulnerable was never something Harry felt comfortable with, and he knew that Voldemort would take any advantage he could.  Harry wondered briefly if Dumbledore would insist on more occlumency lessons.  If he did, Harry would suck it up and deal, even if it meant dealing with an irate and malicious Severus Snape.  Merlin, the man was bitter.
    Vernon snorted loudly in his sleep, causing Harry to jump in surprise.  He shook his head at his own jitters, and headed back into Dudley’s Second Bedroom to write that response for Hermione. 

        I know you’re worried about me, but don’t be.  I’m just sorry I dragged you and the others on such a fool’s errand—it’s a wonder I didn’t get you all killed in the process.
        Everything is fine here; the Dursleys are ignoring me, which is better than usual.  Poor Dudders has even lost some weight, due to nervous energy.  He probably thinks I’m going to call up one of those ‘dementy things’ any moment, really. 
    How is everything with, er, the old crowd?  I’ve been watching some of the muggle news when I can, but that doesn’t give me much of a clue as to what’s really going on.  Merlin knows the Daily Prophet wouldn’t have anything of importance to say.
    Anyways, I ought to go to sleep; it’s late.  Owl me if you have any news to share.


    It was sometime the next morning that Harry decided, in a fit of what must have been neurosis, that he would re-read his textbooks for the last year.  After all, he reasoned to himself, there’s nothing else to do but brush up on schoolwork.  Unless watching another useless muggle telecast or following Diddykins around until the poor boy ran away screaming counted as—what was Hermione’s word?—productive.  No, Harry surmised with amusement, not at all. 
    He brushed the hair out of his eyes in annoyance, and, for the first time in his life, idly wondered if he actually needed a haircut.  It was getting a little long, after all, but Harry supposed it was worth it.  For once his hair was actually behaving like hair, instead of a cross between a hedgehog and a bird’s nest.  If nothing else, Petunia was pleased. 
Harry sighed, running a hand through the fine black strands of his hair, and, with dark amusement, wondered how his aunt would react if he asked for a haircut. 

    The doorbell rang downstairs and Harry sighed as he got up to get it.  There was no one there; Harry looked around in confusion before spotting a letter that had come through the mail slot.
    There in the front hall it sat, crumpled and yellowing at the edges.  Harry stopped before picking it up, leery of any curses—that is, until he saw the elegant writing on the front.  TIME-DELAYED LETTER was embossed over the cursive handwriting, which read, To Harry Potter, and in a smaller script underneath, with love from Mum.

    Curiosity overcame good-old paranoia, and Harry gingerly lifted the letter and carried it to Dudley’s Second Bedroom for further inspection. 
    He only made it up the stairs before the key turned in the lock.  Aunt Petunia and Dudley were back with the groceries (and a few new video games and gadgets for Dudley, presumably).  Aunt Petunia screeched for Harry to come put away the groceries, and within a moment Harry was hiding the letter in his photo album under the loose floorboard and running down the stairs.

    Aunt Petunia was staring at him over the dinner table.  He looked up, eyes inquiring politely, and she eyeballed him a little more, almost as if she was trying to recollect who he was.  Harry raised an eyebrow at her, more than a little confused, and she looked away, blinking.  Dudley and Uncle Vernon sat, oblivious and masticating the Sheperd’s Pie that Harry had made for dinner. 

That night his scar twinged, slightly, and Harry, for once, remembered to try and occlude his mind.  He breathed in and out, slow and deliberate, mimicking a yoga practice he had seen Petunia watching on the telly, once.  However, having no idea as to how to clear his mind, Harry quickly fell asleep to his own breathing, his thoughts swimming and his mind wide open.

“I trust,” said he, “that you have been making… progress?”

Snape kept his head bowed.  “Yes, my Lord.  It is finished.  The potion, however, needs a physical object to apply itself to—

    “I am aware of that, yes.”  He hissed, impatient with his undoubtedly loyal follower.  Nevertheless, he was very, very pleased.  His skeletal hand lightly caressed Nagini’s scales, in an extension of his delectation, and the snake herself lay coiled in his lap.  “Give me the brew.”

    The moment Snape handed over the vial of potion, he secreted it out of sight.  “One more thing, Severuss…”

    Snape, to his credit, did not tense.  However, the curse that came was not what he was expecting.


    After a moment, Snape seemed confused, unaware of his surroundings, before he realized he was kneeling in front of a relaxed and expectant Dark Lord, who was watching his every move.
    “You called, my Lord?”

    He stretched his lipless mouth in a hideous caricature of a smile.  “Yes, my dear Severuss…”  Here he paused; let the poor soul stew in his juices for a few moments.  “I want an update.  But for the moment—Crucio.”

    Snape fell to the ground, twitching and trying his best not to scream.  After years of practice, he was relatively successful.  However, the curse went on and on, and the Dark Lord made it a game to see how long the man could last.

Dumbledore hummed slightly as he went over his papers, muttering words under his breath that only he could hear.  Severus had just gone to a DE meeting and would not be back soon, and while he lamented the lack of such amusing company, Dumbledore hardly thought Severus would appreciate an old man’s ramblings at the moment.  The resident Potions Master had been rather short-tempered as of late, for any number of reasons.  Albus suspected it had something to do with the newly-announced and reinstated Professor Lupin, but really, it could be anything.  Bad Lemon Drop, he supposed.
There was a knock on the door; two sharp raps, and Dumbledore smiled. “Come in, my dear Minerva!”  The professor in question strode in quickly, followed by Professor Lupin, who shut the door behind him.  “Ah, Remus as well.  How delightful.  Sit, sit!”
McGonagall rolled her eyes, but sat alongside Lupin, who had a look of vague politeness.  “Good evening, Albus,” she said primly, and Lupin nodded his greetings. “I’d like to discuss the appointment for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, as well as the Order business Remus has been telling me about.”
“Ah, yes.”  The headmaster adjusted his half-moon spectacles, then steepled his fingers, looking ever bit the wise, learned paragon.  “The lovely lady has agreed to come to England and teach for me, on a favor.”  McGonagall wondered briefly how many favors Albus had accrued over the years.  “She is older than me, and not exactly fond of teaching, so her time here will be limited to one year.”
McGonagall nodded curtly.  “I’m sure she will be perfectly capable of teaching the students what they need.  Now, about Remus being here for the year, Albus…  Are you sure that’s wise?  The ministry—“
“The ministry has other problems on their hands, such as the pending investigation against Dolores Umbridge.”  Here McGonagall smiled in triumph.  “Besides,” Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling mischievously, “what they don’t know can’t hurt them.”
For once, McGonagall did not protest the Headmaster’s rule-bending.
A loud, shrill noise echoed through the round office, emanating from an odd-looking bauble sitting on the Headmaster’s desk.  It was glowing a ruddy red, pulsing with the noise it was creating.  Dumbledore stood up, his attention on the object.

“We have a problem,” Dumbledore said quietly.  McGonagall inhaled sharply.  “Remus, gather a team.

    “I need you to go to Privet Drive—take Harry to headquarters—and quickly!”

When Harry's vision righted itself, the pain against his skull still burned deep as before.  He lay damp and contorted among summer bed sheets, breathing steadily with the pounding beat in his chest.  It was only when he heard a resounding CRACK of apparition somewhere outside his bedroom did he move, rolling noiselessly to the floor into a crouch.
Harry fumbled for his glasses a moment before finding and pushing them on.  The beat of his heart sounded in his head, emphasizing the pain blazing on his forehead.  Gritting his teeth, he walked to the door—
As soon as he opened the door of Dudley's Second Bedroom, he knew something was very wrong.
The fetid stench clouted him, and he reeled before staggering down the hall.  There was an unrecognizable liquid smeared on the floor, and when Harry looked up he could very easily notice blood splattered from the impact of a person's head on the wall by the stairs. 
The first white-carpeted step was pristine but for a few freckled stains marring the surface; as the steps went down, however, the coat of crimson sop grew into ugly, wet puddles.  The largest pool sat still as frozen waters around Dudley's enormous person, the florid surface rippling only slightly when the syrupy liquid dripped off his cousin's mutilated form.  It was obvious after Harry looked again (for he had needed to look away) that Dudley had been dead for some hours; Harry was starting to hear the faint buzzing of flies and the smell was rank…
Of course, the stink was worse as one went near, Harry noted as he stepped (leaped, really) over his former cousin, his bare toes sinking into the saturated carpet with a softened squelch.  He wandered in the direction of the living room, following the bigger patches of human remains until his eyes fell onto what was once Uncle Vernon's right arm in the doorway.  Harry could not discern the mass of viscera attached to that arm, but it was easy to pick out the gaping wounds on his uncle's hands where fingers had been attached. Harry swallowed thickly and turned away towards the stairs again. 
A whimper.
Harry stopped and slowly turned his head in the direction of the noise.  Ignoring any survival skills he had retained throughout his reckless life, Harry walked to the kitchen, which was, unlike the rest of the house, spotless, bar two drained cups of tea sitting on the tile counter. 
For a moment Harry dumbly cast his eyes around the room, failing to locate the source of the noise.  He heard it again, softer this time, and—

There, under the kitchen sink, Aunt Petunia stared up at him, unseeing, her eyes glazed and her thin lips fluttering as she quietly sobbed; her skeletal fingers clutching what looked like a crumpled old photograph.
        Harry promptly turned around, went back upstairs, wiped his feet on the carpet, got back into bed, and fell asleep.

Someone was shaking him awake.  "Harry, Harry! Wake up," a voice hissed urgently, and Harry started, looking around wildly.  He felt someone press his glasses into his hand, and he put them on, squinting.  It was Remus.  "Get up, we have to leave.  Your uncle and cousin have been murdered."  He said, and looked to the door of the tiny bedroom anxiously. 
"I know," mumbled Harry, stepping out of bed and going to his trunk to find a change of clothes.  "I saw." 
Remus stared at him, incredulously, but turned away and started to walk out of the bedroom once Harry had started changing.  "Get your things—everything; you aren't coming back.  The muggle police ought to be here soon."  He said from the doorway.  "I'll wait for you downstairs."
Harry nodded; not that Remus could see, and quickly went to the loose floorboard, scooped up everything in the hole, and rapidly started packing.  Soon he was finished; he grabbed his trunk and Hedwig's empty cage, and left the bedroom, looking behind him once to check for anything he might have left. 
Remus, Tonks, and Elphias Doge were waiting for him in the front entryway, eyeing the massacred forms of Harry’s relatives with vague horror.  “Wotcher, Harry,” Tonks whispered. 
Harry jumped over a rather large blood puddle, tripped, then clutched at Remus' outstretched arm before he fell.  "We'll be walking to Arabella Figg's place; try not to make a sound, Harry.  Here,” Remus said, and flicked his wand; Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage began to shrink, stopping when they were small enough to fit in his pocket. 
Doge was at the doorway, holding it open for the rest of them; Tonks, Harry and then Remus swiftly walked out into the night.  Not a sound, not even owls or crickets greeted them.  Old Mrs. Figg's was just a few houses down; there they walked, and it was only when everyone was through the front door and in Arabella's living room did Remus and the others breathe easy.  
"Alright."  He said, and turned to address Harry.  "Is side-along apparition alright with you, Harry?  We would have simply apparated from the Dursley's, but the Order set up several wards around the house."
Harry nodded.  "That's fine.  As long as I get to wash my feet when we get to…"  He paused.  "Where are we going?"
"Order Headquarters," Remus replied, as Mrs. Figg tried to stop Tonks from touching anything.  Instead, she tripped over Mr. Tibbles.   
"Anyways, we ought to be going.  Everyone?"  The rest nodded, and Harry automatically grabbed onto Remus' arm.  "Ready, Harry?"  And without further warning, Harry felt himself being sucked into a tube. He couldn't breathe—
Just as suddenly, there before them was the door to Grimmauld Place.  Harry followed Remus and the other Order members in, and was immediately tackled by Hermione.
"Oh, Harry!" Hermione cried, and for several moments Harry felt his ribs being crushed.  He patted Hermione awkwardly on the back.  
"'M alright, Hermione."  Harry mumbled, and Hermione embarrassedly released him.    
"Is it true?"  She asked, looking horrified.
"What?" said Harry, confused.
"That the Dursleys are dead!"  Hermione wrung her hands.  "You must be so upset--"
    Harry snorted.  “Really, I’m fine.”  At Hermione’s tentative, yet leery look, he continued, “It hasn’t set in yet, really…”
     Ron nodded from behind them.  “Give Harry a rest, eh?  Must’ve been traumatizing, that…” Hermione scowled at him, but dropped the issue as Mrs. Weasley bustled them into the Kitchen. 
    “Good to see you again, Harry dear,” she said, squeezing him gently.  “Would you like anything?  Tea, perhaps?  I’m so sorry about your relatives…”
    Harry smiled weakly, adjusting his glasses.  Things were a bit fuzzy.  “Tea would be nice, thanks, Mrs. Weasley.” 
    She nodded, turning to put the water on, and chatted on as Harry, Ron and Hermione sat down in the kitchen.  Harry looked up to see Lupin and Tonks coming through the door, and nodded as the man sat down next to him.  Remus smiled, looking tired as usual. 
    “Harry, you’ve grown so much this summer,” Mrs. Weasley continued, and Harry felt a little nervous at the innocuous comment.  “Your hair is so much better, too!  What have you been doing with it?”
    Remus chuckled.  “Do tell, Harry.  James could never get his hair to lay that flat.  He finally gave up in third year after a Hufflepuff girl told him it was dashing.”
    Harry smiled, shrugging.  “I guess it’s just that it’s growing out, is all.  I haven’t really done anything to it.”
    “Well, I think it looks very nice, Harry,” Hermione announced.  Ron just looked bored with the subject matter.
    Mrs. Weasley turned, set the tea tray down, and started to serve everyone.  “Tea, Remus?”
    Remus held up a hand, “Thank you, Molly, but I ought to be going; someone needs to tell the Headmaster that Harry is fine—”
    They all stopped and listened as the front door opened, and slow, limping steps were heard coming down the hallway.  Whoever it was hobbled down the stairs, and the door to the kitchen opened with a creak.
    It was Snape.  He was twitching as he limped into the room, looking a frightful mess.  Mrs. Weasley gasped, and Harry stood up.  At this, Snape looked up, seemed surprised for a moment that Potter was there, then his face smoothed into impassiveness.  He started to limp precariously towards a seat, but Mrs. Weasley headed him off. 
    “Severus, let me help you to one of the bedrooms…” she started, then stopped in her tracks when Snape leveled her with a glare.  Shaking it off, she continued towards him, gently leading him to the door.  Grumbling venomously, he allowed her to assist, for once, swallowing his pride.
    Harry jumped up.  “I’ll help you, Mrs. Weasley, and followed them out of the room, ignoring the surprise of everyone else.  The tea sat cooling for a minute before Remus shook off the shock.  “Tea, anyone?” 

    Getting Snape into one of the bedrooms proved as difficult as it sounded, and Mrs. Weasley and Harry breathed a sigh of relief when he was settled in bed, stiffly pulling off his cloak.  Mrs. Weasley bustled over to help him with it, and Harry stood by the door awkwardly, surveying the damage.  Obviously it had been painful for Snape to climb up the flights of stairs; there was a meandering blood trail leading from the kitchen to the upstairs bedroom they were in.  “Harry, dear, go and get some bandages, will you?”  Mrs. Weasley asked, not looking up. 
    Harry headed towards the door.  “Mr. Potter.”  He stopped at the sound of Snape’s weary voice.  “Kindly bring the following potions, as well…” the man’s tone sounded weary, course and irritable.  He listed off several healing potions, as well as dreamless-sleep and blood-replenishing potions.
    Harry nodded.  “Yes sir,” he said, and went to retrieve the potions and bandages.
After an hour of Snape chugging potions and Mrs. Weasley wrapping up the cutting-curse wounds on his arms and torso, with Harry hovering nervously over them and helping when he could, Snape settled into his pillows.  Mrs. Weasley left the room, expecting Harry to follow her.  
    Harry stopped him when Snape reached for the dreamless-sleep potion.  “Sir,” he said tentatively, and Snape raised an eyebrow at him in query.  Harry knew he had to tell someone about the vision, lecture or no.  “I didn’t succeed in clearing my mind before I went to sleep—” here Snape snorted “and, well, I saw.”
    His father tsked.  “Is there a point to this, Mr. Potter…?  It is not unusual for the Dark Lord to torture his own followers… though I suppose I can’t rule out you gloating—”
    “That’s not it,” Harry interrupted hastily, and as Snape glowered murderously at him, he hurriedly continued.  “Voldemort—”
    “Don’t say his name, Potter—”
    “The Dark Lord,” Harry interjected again, “obliviated you.”
    Snape’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and Harry swallowed thickly at the look.  “Mr. Potter, I do not appreciate lies—” 
    “I’m not lying!”  Harry insisted angrily, and Snape looked ready to leap out of bed and strangle him.  “You gave him a potion that he had you brew, something about it being for an object—”
    Snape scoffed.  “The Dark Lord has not had me brew any potions for some time.”
    “Well, you wouldn’t remember it, would you?”  Harry said peevishly.  Snape did not seem amused.  “Look,” Harry started, “Just ask Dumbledore, I’m sure you had to have told him about it when V—The Dark Lord asked you to brew it.”
    “Fine,” the man snapped, “I shall ask him.  Now leave me be.”
    Upset and angry, Harry rushed out of the room as if dragons were on his tail.  He stopped just outside the door.  “Sir…”
    Harry shut the door with a click.  Well, he thought, feeling snappish, that went better than expected.
Everyone was still at tea when he came back to the kitchen, besides Mrs. Weasley, who was mopping up the bloodstains in the foyer. 
    “So, Harry,” said Ron, sipping his tea awkwardly, “How has your summer been so far?”
    Harry snorted.  “Just great, Ron.  Did I tell you I woke up to find my relatives had been savagely murdered while I was sleeping?” 
    Remus made a noise of protest, but Ron responded, perfectly calm.  “Why yes, I had heard.  Anything else interesting happen?” 
    Chagrined, Harry winced.  Although, he was tempted to tell him about his mother’s letter, just for the shock factor, but he resisted the urge.  “No, not really.  Look... sorry I’m being a berk, alright?  It’s just been a rough night.”
    Ron nodded, and Hermione huffed at the two of them, but refrained from commenting.  “Ron and I just came to Headquarters ourselves a few days ago.
    Oh!”  She said, remembering something, “Our OWLs should be coming soon.  Are you nervous, Harry?  I suspect I did horribly.”
    Harry and Ron both groaned.  “Well, now I’m nervous,” Harry said, and Ron agreed.
    Remus smiled at the trio’s camaraderie.  “You’ll all do just fine, I’m sure.”  He covered a yawn.  “It’s almost three in the morning… we’d best be getting to bed.”  He started to put the tea set away, and Hermione helped him, before everyone trekked up the stairs to their respective bedrooms. 
    Ginny stuck her head out the door of her and Hermione’s room, bleary-eyed with sleep.  “Did something happen?”  She asked confusedly.
    “Yeah, Harry’s here,” said Ron, before Hermione ushered her back to bed.  Ron and Harry walked past and into their own bedroom, and soon Ron, at least, was out like a light.  Harry lay awake, brutally murdered Dursleys and scathing conversations with a certain potions master filling his head, before he drifted off as the light began to filter through the windows. 

That wasn’t so bad, was it?  Any questions, comments and critique will be loved forever.  Flames and put-downs (what am I, in Elementary school?) will be ignored and deleted.  Siriusly.  Don’t forget to review!
I hope you enjoyed the Dursley’s demise… it was the least I could do, of course. ☺

Jun. 28th, 2007


Harry Potter: Amusing Quotes from Fanfiction

I actually had a pretty entertaining journal entry to put here, but, thanks to livejournal *grumbles* it was deleted in the process of posting.  WTF, man?!   
Anyways, these are from my collection of entertaining quotes from the fics I have read.  I'll save the poignant ones (usually written by Sanction, which isn't a surprise) for later.
Some of them have where they came from, some of them dont because way back when I was too lame to remember to write where I got them.  So if you see this and know where the unknown quotes come from, help me out here and comment! :D

“But have you seen the size of that wand? It’s more like a staff.” Ron admitted.

“What’s wrong Ron? Do you have wand envy?” asked Athena with an evil glint in her eye.

“NO!” he said defensively, much to the amusement of the others.

“You shouldn’t Ron. You’re wand is the perfect size for you, and you handle it very well.” started Hermione, totally oblivious to the double entendres going on around her, and not understanding the laughing that had erupted at her words. “Everyone knows it’s not the size of the wand that matters, it’s the way you use it to channel your magic.”

The laughing just got louder, and Ron’s face just got redder. He tried to make her be quiet, but she wouldn’t have it, she didn’t know what was going on, but she would not just sit there and let everyone laugh at her Ron.

“I know he takes good care of it. I see him polishing it regularly.” The laughter increased, yet again, and Ron, if possible, turned even redder.

“Stop it! Ron’s wand is perfect for him. He’s used it around me everyday, and he’s very adept.” The laughter doubled.

“And his new one works a million times better for him then that old one did. I’m glad he broke his last one! Who cares if the replacement was an inch shorter!” Most of Gryffindor table was on the floor by now, as were anyone else within earshot.

Ron got up quickly and excused himself, and Hermione was just livid. Ginny, feeling sorry for her friend, decided to let her in on what was so funny. She leaned over and whispered something into Hermione’s ear.
--Farfumsane's Harry Potter and the Secret Sanctuary

"Hey," Ron glanced at Harry. "You don't think the hero always gets the girl, do you? I mean, that isn't fair."

Harry thought for a moment. "No, I reckon it doesn't always happen. The old guy was a hero and he got whacked with a light saber; he definitely didn't get the girl." He yawned. "Anyway, that's probably the least of Luke's worries. He's got the Force to learn, bad guys to kill, the universe to save."

"My point exactly," Ron grinned. "He's too busy to get the girl."

"How can you -- " Sirius sputtered, but Remus pressed his thumb over Sirius' lips, silencing him quite effectively.

"I have a limited capacity for dealing with crises," he said, emphasising each syllable. "I cannot at once process an attempt on Harry's life, Peter living as a rat for eight years in your bookshop, two grown men who can't be arsed to be civil to one another, and Harry's Doctor Doolittle act simultaneously without a great deal more alcohol than I currently have. Either go shout somewhere else, the both of you, or stay here and actually make yourselves useful."
--Sam Vimes' Stealing Harry

“Pray tell, what is a ‘McDonalds’?” Snape sneered.
--Vorabiza's Malfoy Child

"Fine, James," Lily said, standing up. "You never meant to hurt me. That's great. I'm thrilled. Enjoy the rest of your breakfast." She turned to Sirius. "And bangers and mash, enjoy the rest of your ..." Lily cut herself off when she realized the mistake.  She hoped it would just slide under the table.

She forgot who, exactly, was present company.

"Did you just call me 'bangers and mash?'" Sirius smiled.

"I was flustered," Lily attempted to save face.

Sirius wouldn't hear it. "Is that what the kids are doing these days?" he asked. "Referring to people by what they eat for breakfast?"

"Sirius, I'm really not in the mood," she tried.

Sirius turned to James. "Hello there, toast and marmalade," he said. "Jolly good weather we're having today, wouldn't you say?"

"Just spiffy," James returned, playing along. "And why look, here comes our good friends, dry English muffin and hot porridge."

Lily closed her eyes, but she inherently knew Remus and Peter were approaching. She opened her eyes a few moments later to find she was indeed correct.

"Hello there, muffin," Sirius cooed to Remus, who looked utterly shocked by the greeting.

"Er ... hello, cupcake?" Remus returned.

"Yeah," said Snape, "and it sounds like the name of some cheesy illusionist.  'Tonight, one night only, LORD VOLDEMORT performs the most mind-defying magic of the mystics!'"

            "Ooooh!" cried Lucius. "Is he going to do linking rings?!"

[referring to Remus and Tonks]  The corner of his mouth quirked in a grin as a thought from the more Marauder-ish side of his mind occured to him: Maybe they'll fall in love and get married and have lots of little technicolour puppies together.
-- CollaneR's Harry Potter and the Crystal of the Founders

Jun. 12th, 2007

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HP Fanfic Recs #5

I've been reading a lot of new Harry Potter fanfiction as of late, mostly because re-reading Vorabiza's Secrets (see HP recs #1) for the 5th time just wasnt cutting it.  As brilliant as that story is, I needed some new material.  Also, I got tired of straight drama in the form of Pride and Prejudice fanfiction.  (And the slash fans say, "gross! Hetero-sex!")  
Anyways, to the recs.  Some of these are up here because they're really really good, and some of them are here because they're funny as hell.  It's mostly the latter, but I'll tell you which is which.  ...And normally I despise ff.net, but you know what?  I'm too tired to care.

Dear Order by Silverwolf 7007
Now, I've only read the first chapter, but this line was worth it: "It was assumed that the two men were playing poker, as they were using Muggle cards and seemed incredibly focussed on winning. It wasn’t until Remus’s rather triumphant hiss of ‘Go fish’ that anyone realised what they were really playing..."  Also, because (at least after book five) I really felt that Dumbledizzle needed a good punch up the bracket. 

Unspoken Thing by xSimplyxMagicalx
A short RLSB slash oneshot-- I thought it was pretty cute.  And funny.  James makes me laugh-- and let's not forget Sirius's hetero-threatening hair. *falls over*

Equilibrium by Twinheart
This is one of the serious ones.  For some reason, abused!Harry (not raped or molested, mind you *shudders*) and Severitus have made a nice little hidey-hole in my heart.  A cupboard, perhaps?  
But yeah, this is Snape at his cutest.  I love gruff!sweet!Snape.  The irony amuses me, and why on earth did Dumbledoofus leave Harry with the stupid Dursleys?!  Because JKR is one sadistic authoress, that's why.  I hope she kills off Ginny in the next one; that way I can keep pretending Harry's gay.  Because he IS, obviously. :P

....I thought I had more!  Oh, well, must keep reading.  I did find a Severitus community; while some of them are a little to Snape-centric for me, the others might just be of merit.  *nodnod* 

One more I've been obsessed with reading:

Time to Spare by EmySabath
OH MY GAWD :XOOOOOO  I love this story.  Really really really.  It's amazing.  I am lost for words.  It's the best time-travel fic I've evah evah read.  I'm serious!  Summary... (sorry, the coffee is making me jittery.)  "A post-Half Blood Prince rewrite of Time For Me. Voldemort has a plan to catch Harry out of bounds and cast a spell to send him back two hundred years, but all does not go as planned and Harry isn't as gone as he'd thought..."  Oh Snap! D:

...And here's another one... Well, actually, it's too facking late at night for me to be able to copy and paste correctly, let alone type... Snape's Invisible Friend!  Just too cute.  I felt Snape was a bit OOC in this fic, but he IS a lot younger.  Maybe it's like, prunes or something.  (Wow, did that make sense?) 

And I leave you with this quote... "Don't Lemon-drop me, you old man!" XD

Feb. 26th, 2007

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GW reccomendations #1

This is going to be one hell of a post if I put all of them in one... so I'm going to go by installments.  Most, if not all, of these are 1x2, and/or 3x4.  I'll state the pairings for each, in any case.  All of these (as of the 26th of February 2007) are working links.  Oh, and they're in no particular order... completely random, really.  

Chiaroscuro by Lorena Manuel
I havent read this in a while, but man, was it good.  Trowa is the shit in this!  Pairings are 1x2x1 (mentioned) 3x4x3 (err, explicit?) and OMCx5 (mentioned).  It takes place at a catholic boarding school for boys; Quatre is a new student and goes on to kick ass in the music competition.  Trowa is is *cough* muse.  There's more to it than that, but my intelligence quota for the day is spectacularly low, seeing as I cant string together a good sentence.  

Kyuuketsuki Duo by Jei
Really, I should just point you to Jei's page, tell you to go crazy and read EVERYTHING, and be done with it.  This in particular was one of my favorites... never mind I never even watched/read/had anything to do with Vampire Princess Miyu.  Jei has this interesting honesty in all of her fics, and most of it is more intellectual than sexual or even romantic, which is odd but it really works.  Don't expect any lemons from her, 'cause as far as I've seen she hardly writes them.  The only sexual stuff she writes is in the style of D. H. Lawrence (for example, the "sex scene" in Lady Chatterly's Lover is metaphorical and prosaic.  Mind you, Jei doesnt overdo the prose.)  I really like and respect Jei because she's does fanfiction HER way, and it always seems like she's not trying to write for other people-- just herself.  It's wonderfully refreshing.  Just be warned, though; if you get too impatient with authors going off in seemingly-random tangents, or can't follow Jei's logic (I know I sometimes have trouble, but that's what makes it interesting), this might not be the author for you.  *shrugs*  I myself love it, but others may get frustrated that when she meanders off the plotline.  Oh!  Parirings.  1x2x1, mainly, with some 3x4x3.  Sometimes.

A Guide to Better Hugging by Sameshima Shuzumi
1x2x1 lurrrve!  This really is a one of a kind.  I don't think I've come across anyone else who writes like this... Too bad I'm a stick in the mud when it comes to OTPs.   But anyways, summary!  Duo gets waaay ahead of himself when in comes to expressing his emotions through bodily contact.  
Heero is great in this.  Hell, so is Duo.  If you havent read this, YOU MUST. 

Oh, hell, that was only three recs.  I need coffee; I'm doing this later.  Ciao!

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