AcceptanceAcceptance4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
October, 31, 2005
Severus didn´t want a child.
And yet...here it was...
Severus approached the cradle with feather light footsteps. It was a simple but elegant piece of furniture, made out of heavy and dark oak wood...an heirloom of Evelyn´s family, that her mother had insisted on giving them. A wealth of delicate white and blue covers and a veil of rich Irish lace protected it´s tiny occupant from the late October chill.
His long fingers drew back the covers to reveal the child to his sleep deprived eyes. A child who was no more than an hour old. A child that wasn´t expected. A mistake that shouldn´t have happened, as far as his father had been concerned.
He didn´t want a child...
Most people take parental instinct for granted...They imagine it´s only natural for parents to love their children. It just happened...But Severus knew better...In fact he knew from experience that it just wasn´t that simple...Nowhere near that simple...
And that was p
Couch - A Drarry TaleHermione broke the couch.Couch - A Drarry Tale4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
She hadn't meant to, of course, but it was what it was and what it was was that Hermione, 8 months pregnant, was a big unit and that couch was almost as old and she was.
It had taken two cups of herbal tea and all the flattery in the world to stem the unbelievable flow of tears that ensued but when she was finally gone, the couch was still broken.
Harry and Draco stood staring at it with a curious undertone of sadness.
"This is weird..." Harry finally murmured, "It's weird, right?"
Draco paused, "Well, we've had it since we moved in. We christened it that first night."
Harry smirked at the memory, "There was nothing holy about what we did on that couch."
Draco scoffed his agreement.
"We can just repair it." he suggested, flourishing his wand lazily.
Harry thought about it.
"I dunno. Maybe we could do with a new couch?"
Draco sighed, "Oh Merlin, this isn't going to turn into another one of your crusades for furniture that matches the apartment, is it?"
Harry Potter Sorting Contest Entry-Scorpius Malfoy"MALFOY, SCORPIUS!"Harry Potter Sorting Contest Entry-Scorpius Malfoy4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Murmurs and whispers travelled through the hall, members from each of the four houses glaring at him as he reached the stool - his heart was racing and his stomach was doing backflips. His hands were shaking nervously and someone said, "That's the palest Malfoy I've ever seen."
Scorpius sat down nervously and Professor Longbottom carefully placed the hat on his head - yawning as if he already knew the outcome of Scorpius's Sorting. Scorpius's head turned towards the Slytherin table and he saw some boys clearing a space for him and some girls arguing with each other over which one would sit next to him. Scorpius almost slapped himself on his forehead.
"Oh great." Scorpius thought to himself.
He turned to observe the Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. The Hufflepuffs smiled kindly up at him, although Scorpius could tell many of their smiles were completely fake. Some of them looked terrified of him and shrunk away as he faced them.
"Really now? I'm not my fa
101 Hufflepuff Morals101 Hufflepuff Morals4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
#1 When it all come down to the end, I could sure use a friend.
#2 It's not childish to hold onto hope. It's actually hard.
#3 Don't judge a person for what they've done, because you don't know why they've done it.
#4 A person who deserves my loyalty receives it.
#5 Have a heart that never hardens, a temper that never tires, a touch that never hurts.
#6 We can do no great things; only small things with great love.
#7 There is nothing wrong with loving the crap out of everything. Negative people find their walls, so never apologize for your enthusiasm. Never. Ever. Never.
#8 Do not pray for an easy life; Pray for the strength to endure a difficult one
#9 I use to think your were weak and just didn't fight back. But now, honestly, I think you're actually pretty tough. It takes a hell of a lot of strength to not complain and lash out.
#10 If you think you're too small to make a difference, you've never spent
Fred + George Weasley AnalysisFred + George Weasley Analysis8 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
Fred & George: A Short Character Analysis
Right, so first off I'm a big fan of the twins: both twins, not just Fred. I've always appreciated both as separate characters and I've never really understood how so many people never picked up on their differences. So I decided to do what I do best - RANT (wayhey!). Keep in mind this is just my own opinion based on what I've read in books 1-7.
In the first place it's important to know and understand the twins' differences, especially if you're writing a story that puts particular focus on them. Yes, both twins are bonkers, fun-loving, flirtatious, stubborn and lest we forget both in the possession of a razor sharp wit. The books may describe them as identical right down to the last freckle, but this doesn't mean that they are one hundred percent identical in personality - no twins are. In fact, if Fred and George were the same they wouldn't make such a good team. Fred and George are a perfect double act and in any double act you
'Post War': Part I- 'The visit' - Chapter I'Post War': Part I- 'The visit' - Chapter I4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Spinner´s End, Cokeworth, Northern England.
Severus put down the book and puffed heavily. It was the sixth time the bloody doorbell had rung.
Probably the teenage delinquents who were in the inconvenient habit of roaming Spinner´s End on occasion. During the past few years, they had been coming over to that abandoned part of town whenever they felt bored or were being chased by the police. As a matter of fact, with the street´s alarming state of decay, most of its houses deserted, it was rather surprising that the juvenile gangster-hopefuls didn´t come around to "visit" more often.
Spinner´s End was after all a perfect hiding place...Nobody better than Severus knew that...
But the fact was that Spinner´s End was ruined to such a degree that not even those little punks took a more than passing interest in it. Sometimes they entered an abandoned house to smoke, played some loud music (that is, if that godawful cacophony could be call
Padfoot and Prongs: Moving InPadfoot and Prongs: Moving In3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
It had been a long hot day. James's hair stuck to the back of his neck as he walked down the path to the gate in front of his parent's cottage. He leaned over it, sighing, as there was no sign of life moving along the dirt road. The wind was picking up now, rolling across the field that bordered the road, rippling it as though it were a great golden ocean. Dark clouds were appearing on the horizon, framing the gold with dark blue. James looked over into Mrs. Wittle's yard, where the well endowed Mrs. Wittle herself was hastily pulling down her laundry in anticipation of the impending storm. She glanced at the clouds worryingly as she pulled down her last pair of pinstriped knickers, catching James in her eyesight and waving. James waved back, watching as she turned and collected her lawn gnomes and took them inside with her. James turned his attention back to the road, ruffling his hair in the wind. No sign of Sirius yet, but his excitement was mounting as the clouds approached. The da
AwakeningAt age eighteen, he cannot grow a beard. His five o'clock shadow rivals that of his dubious peers, but it won't extend into a pointy, knotted mess. This is, however, not a problem for him. There is a boy he has loved for over a year now, and kisses are sweeter without something in the way. If perchance they're in the mood, his stubble will aid in a rough tangle near the telescope outside. A beard isn't needed, it's just that he can't help but imagine himself with one as he stares in the mirror.Awakening6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
But today something is wrong. There are screams and bangs a few rooms away, and, by the time he drops the shaver and runs in the direction of the cacophony, his mother is dead. His sister, wide-eyed with small red scars all across her dragging skin, hunches nearby. His sister murdered his mother. The thought pounds in his head with newly clotted blood. It's of no real surprise. His knuckles crack.
One day, he will fix this world for the better. And, unlike his father, he will succeed. He an