unfinished fic: "the house of black" [sirius&bellatrix, 1971]
She's fascinating in the way that predators are. The power of his older cousin captivates and corrupts as she sweeps past the adults, sneering and swishing about. Bellatrix is at least two heads higher than him, and made of wiry muscle contrasted by curves that make him strangely nervous. Her smile is sharp and blindingly white - she flashes it like a dagger at the questionable Malfoy cousins before moving dangerously close to the tables of refreshments where he is hiding.
drabble: "study" [remus&grimmauld place, 1998]
You turn on the lamp for company, even though that doesn't make any sense.
drabbles: "we are the hollow men" [remus&/tonks, present]
There wasn't much to be said, and she looked at him with a blank expression that, sadly, registered no astonishment when he simply ceased his speech and, in placing his long-fingered hands over his already tear-glazed face, began to weep anew.
drabble: "obligatory" [remus&/tonks]
There was so much to be done, and so little to be said; everyone had been shocked into action only to realize that there was - in the grand scheme of things - nothing that could be immediately remedied, and so it was with heavy hearts that the Light wizards (the Order faithfuls, handful of Ministry devotees, and other good souls) were silent.
HP & The Half-Blood Prince
Alright. I finished the book Friday evening (or Saturday morning, depending) and now that the weekend is over and I've had a smidge of time to mull things over, analyze, and calm the fuck down, I think I'm ready to begin to write my intial review of the Half-Blood Prince. Maybe. Or. Not. :
Either way, someone in another lj said that this was the
Slytherin book, and as (I'd like to think I am) a Gryffindor, even the tone of the first chapters set me on edge. This one just seemed, from the beginning, to be a different read than the other installments of HP, and when I slammed it down that morning and remembered to breathe, I realized I was correct in my assumptions on a number of levels.
I don't want to spoil anything for anyone, so I'll just hold myself and rock back and forth
until the next book comes out
for a while, and maybe re-read it to see if I won't detest it a second time.
Mostly I'm just shocked. Well, sort of. I don't know. I'll just call it disappointment for now.