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I was slowly losing hold of my original and better self

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30th June 2006

2:59am: drabble: "how it feels" [regulus&sirius, 1970]

He is bigger and stronger and looks like your dad, you think, when he stands riskily on the high-backed chair at the end of the dining table - the one you aren't supposed to play on - and pretends he's Dai Llewellyn, waiting to save the chaser from a bludger just as the snitch appears. He tips the chair back on two legs and hits the bludger with tremendous skill - so hard that the leather comes off the imaginary ball; he even falls off the chair, but you're not sure if it's real or for show.

28th January 2006

4:39am: fic: "what the messenger said" [p&p patil, 1999]

What she said to the messenger:
Did you really see?
Or did you just hear from someone who saw?
Tell me, I pray,
I want to know only one thing -
the coming of my lover
from whose mouth did you hear it?
May you receive as gift
the city of Patali, full of gold,
on the bank of River Conai
where elephants with white tusks bathe.

8th January 2006

5:01am: unfinished fic: "vows" [post-grad marauders, 1978]

Things were not well in the wizarding world, but thankfully most blokes could still meet a friend in a cafe for a cup of coffee, and that was what Remus Lupin was doing.

4:55am: unfinished fic: "feign" [lupin/tonks, 1997]

She places her hand up to the foggy window and spreads her fingers, her palm cool against the glass. When she removes it, the night shines in, and she can see through the moisture; the world outside is blue, and while the moon is stationary, telephone poles fly by, momentarily obstructing it and the small assortment of surrounding stars.

30th December 2005

3:42am: oneshot fic: "wolves" [remus/tonks, 1998]

"We'll find her," they hiss and jeer. "We'll find her, and rip her to shreds."

Night after night, it is the same thing - canine shapes that blend in easily with the shadows cast by the molting furniture and graying drapes, or wind that slips in through the shutters, quietly howling. He wakes to see eyes in the corners, and swears there is moisture on the window, though there is little doubt that no vile breath ever graced the glass.

25th August 2005

2:49pm: unfinished fic: untitled [remus&bill, 1997]
Remus Lupin woke with a start, tore of his covers and found himself standing and undressing before he was entirely sure what had happened. Shirt and pajama pants now discarded in a heap on the floor, he ran his hands across the latticework of old scarring on his chest and struggled to breathe, feeling as if his lungs were constricting without his permission. His heart beat frantically against his ribcage, and for a moment he had the ridiculous instinct to fall to all fours and bolt out the door.

21st July 2005

1:38am: unfinished fic: untitled [bill/fleur, 1998]

They had, naturally, avoided giving him a mirror for some time, but the day had to come. He had taken it well, considering, but had politely told the orderlies at St. Mungo's to remove it from his room at once, and no one had argued.

Who was he if he couldn't recognize himself, Bill wondered. Inwardly, he had changed very little, he admitted, and yet he found himself wanting to research ways to bring back his old face, which made him feel both vain and faintly ridiculous. He had been told - by the best authority on the matter - that there was little to be done of his facial injury, and that was that.

19th July 2005

4:44am: 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.

4:43am: drabble: "study" [remus&grimmauld place, 1998]

You turn on the lamp for company, even though that doesn't make any sense. 

4:39am: 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.

4:37am: 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.

4:21am: 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.
Current Mood: disappointed
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