30 Days of Harry Potter meme: Day 9, and recs
09. Fanfiction: Discuss.
Well, I like fanfic. The good stuff, anyway. It was a wonderful filler for the endless-seeming gaps between new books, a sort of narrative speculation that kept you in enough magic to make it to the next hit. Now that the canon is closed, sort of, it's a fun way to explore roads not taken in the books, to work with minor characters, to come up with a personal epilogue, or to pretend, briefly, that whatever things happened otherwise. I was basically happy with how the books turned out, so fanfic has remained a fun supplement, rather than a self-indulgent fuck-you to the creator (no, I am not naming Darltonames).
With that in mind, it's recs time!
After Elizabeth by Aashby: This fic was originally posted in 2003, and although it's been jossed by subsequent canon, it stands as a well observed, nicely characterized, and thoughtful read. It's a Dumbledore backstory fic from before JKR (1) decided that Dumbledore was closer to 115 than 150 and (2) announced he was gay. The premise is that Dumbledore, working the Parliament/Ministry intelligence nexus in WWI, runs into a young Muggle lady. Dumbledore's whimsy and his serious side come across equally well, and the exploration of lingering Victorian social mores in a changing world that was both more and less modern than we often remember is fascinating. ~22,000 words; R.
Albus glanced at his watch in the Leaky Cauldron (Blast, I'll be late for the meeting again -- Acton-Stewart'll have my hide --),
cursed several bits of Merlin's anatomy, attempted to Floo to the Ministry before remembering that all connections to the
Ministry had been severed for the duration, cursed again, and launched himself out the front door and toward an omnibus
just passing by, knowing the improbability of finding a quiet place from which to Apparate. He didn't see the young woman
coming straight for him -- or, more properly, she didn't see him: one second the pavement was clear, and in the next a
madman was blocking it.
The result was predictable -- irresistible force meets immovable object. The force in this instance was six feet four inches of
auburn-haired (and hairy) maniac; the immovable object was a slender brunette in sensible shoes into whom the maniac
plowed, scattering her parcels about the pavement and nearly overturning her.
She had revenge of sorts: the knob of her umbrella-handle connected neatly with his solar-plexus.
"Oooof --"
Even as he struggled for breath he saw her lose her footing and start to go down, and he grabbed for her elbow to steady
her.
"I'm terribly sorry," he heard her say as he bent over his aching gut and tried to remember how to breathe properly. "Are
you all right?"
"Fine," he managed to gasp, and sucked in a breath. "My fault -- so sorry --"
He realised he still had her by the elbow, and released it -- and she lay her hand between his shoulder-blades and patted
his back, the way one might try to comfort a child.
That endeared her to him at once.
"Better?" she asked as his breaths evened out.
"Think so," he said, and cautiously straightened -- and met a pair of solemn, concerned brown eyes.
He was instantly in love.
Now, this was not an uncommon occurrence for Albus Dumbledore. He fell in love quite easily: at least ten trees on the
Hogwarts grounds bore mute witness to his many inamoratti during his student years. (Well, nine trees. He'd quite
alienated Violet Grummage when he'd absent-mindedly carved her initials and his on the same tree as he'd done with
Felicity Mugwort's.)
He also fell out of love with a distressing regularity. He'd continued the cycle after his Leaving, and never seemed to be
able to settle on one young witch in particular. He was always a gentleman -- never let it be thought he took undue
advantage, even if the lady herself was willing -- and they were all lovely girls, each and every one of them. But he became,
in short order, restless with them. After a while he'd simply chalked it up to a streak of fecklessness in his character, tried not
to lead the poor dear things on, let them down gently when the infatuation began to fade, and decided he just wasn't the
marrying type of wizard. (Neither was Aberforth, after all. Although that was more due to.... Well, never mind. Aberforth and
ones' own love life were best not thought of in the same moment.)
"I beg your pardon," he said to the lovely young thing, and darted to the kerb to retrieve a package in imminent danger of being
trod on by a horse. "How clumsy of me, Miss --"
He darted back to avoid being trod on himself, and promptly stepped squarely onto one of the other packages.
Interesting, the part of him Flamel had trained in strict alchemical observation noted. Yielding, but not too. Decidedly sponge-y
texture. Faint odour of vanilla and sugar, and nice gritty little bits beneath the heel....
Blast it, I've trod on the girl's fairy cakes.
Negotiations by thistlerose: A lovely, perfectly characterized filling-the-gaps fic, set (and written) between HBP and DH. Whilst doing some Diagon Alley shopping in anticipation of Bill and Fleur's wedding, Ginny runs into the estranged Percy. They don't really come to terms. ~1400 words; PG.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "You were spying. You should know."
"I just saw you go in with Fleur Delacour and her sister."
"Really?" said Ginny tartly. "If you like, you can watch me go in again." She started to go around him, but he moved and blocked
her way. She glared up at him...
"Let me go," she said.
"You came out looking for me," said Percy.
"I was curious, all right? And bored. You'd better go before Mum sees you and makes a scene." She tried again to shoulder past him,
but he caught her by her forearms. "I can beat you," she warned. "I can't hex you, but I can kick."
Percy bent close. She recoiled, and he shook her - not hard. "Look, I just want to know how Bill is, all right? I take it the wedding is still on."
"Yes," Ginny said. "You see, some people don't mind being associated with the Weasleys." A few weeks ago, she laughed at the notion of
ever defending Fleur.
Brilliant re-interpretations (via perposterice) of what happens when fanfic goes wrong.
The Grapevine by vulpeculary.
Prompt "summery": "Draco corners Ginny with a muffin cause he doesn't think she's eating right, Ginny refuses to eat it... romance develops."
Kevin told me that Peeves found him lying all crumpled up in the corridor.
Jelly Baby by minnow_53.
Prompt "summery": "Hermione comes back after summer perfect and gorgeous, a hunky Draco is instantly smitten and his spine turns to gloop."
Draco Malfoy lay in his hospital bed at Hogwarts, tears rolling slowly down his cheeks. His spine, turned incurably to gloop, would never support his fine, muscular legs again. He would never play Quidditch again, never fly again… He would die without ever experiencing physical love. At the thought, a particularly loud sob escaped his manly throat.
Fanart: "Best of Summary Executions" Sketches by ildi_bp (NSFW). Automatically merits a look for its take on "Death Eater meeting; no slash."
Well, I like fanfic. The good stuff, anyway. It was a wonderful filler for the endless-seeming gaps between new books, a sort of narrative speculation that kept you in enough magic to make it to the next hit. Now that the canon is closed, sort of, it's a fun way to explore roads not taken in the books, to work with minor characters, to come up with a personal epilogue, or to pretend, briefly, that whatever things happened otherwise. I was basically happy with how the books turned out, so fanfic has remained a fun supplement, rather than a self-indulgent fuck-you to the creator (no, I am not naming Darltonames).
With that in mind, it's recs time!
After Elizabeth by Aashby: This fic was originally posted in 2003, and although it's been jossed by subsequent canon, it stands as a well observed, nicely characterized, and thoughtful read. It's a Dumbledore backstory fic from before JKR (1) decided that Dumbledore was closer to 115 than 150 and (2) announced he was gay. The premise is that Dumbledore, working the Parliament/Ministry intelligence nexus in WWI, runs into a young Muggle lady. Dumbledore's whimsy and his serious side come across equally well, and the exploration of lingering Victorian social mores in a changing world that was both more and less modern than we often remember is fascinating. ~22,000 words; R.
Albus glanced at his watch in the Leaky Cauldron (Blast, I'll be late for the meeting again -- Acton-Stewart'll have my hide --),
cursed several bits of Merlin's anatomy, attempted to Floo to the Ministry before remembering that all connections to the
Ministry had been severed for the duration, cursed again, and launched himself out the front door and toward an omnibus
just passing by, knowing the improbability of finding a quiet place from which to Apparate. He didn't see the young woman
coming straight for him -- or, more properly, she didn't see him: one second the pavement was clear, and in the next a
madman was blocking it.
The result was predictable -- irresistible force meets immovable object. The force in this instance was six feet four inches of
auburn-haired (and hairy) maniac; the immovable object was a slender brunette in sensible shoes into whom the maniac
plowed, scattering her parcels about the pavement and nearly overturning her.
She had revenge of sorts: the knob of her umbrella-handle connected neatly with his solar-plexus.
"Oooof --"
Even as he struggled for breath he saw her lose her footing and start to go down, and he grabbed for her elbow to steady
her.
"I'm terribly sorry," he heard her say as he bent over his aching gut and tried to remember how to breathe properly. "Are
you all right?"
"Fine," he managed to gasp, and sucked in a breath. "My fault -- so sorry --"
He realised he still had her by the elbow, and released it -- and she lay her hand between his shoulder-blades and patted
his back, the way one might try to comfort a child.
That endeared her to him at once.
"Better?" she asked as his breaths evened out.
"Think so," he said, and cautiously straightened -- and met a pair of solemn, concerned brown eyes.
He was instantly in love.
Now, this was not an uncommon occurrence for Albus Dumbledore. He fell in love quite easily: at least ten trees on the
Hogwarts grounds bore mute witness to his many inamoratti during his student years. (Well, nine trees. He'd quite
alienated Violet Grummage when he'd absent-mindedly carved her initials and his on the same tree as he'd done with
Felicity Mugwort's.)
He also fell out of love with a distressing regularity. He'd continued the cycle after his Leaving, and never seemed to be
able to settle on one young witch in particular. He was always a gentleman -- never let it be thought he took undue
advantage, even if the lady herself was willing -- and they were all lovely girls, each and every one of them. But he became,
in short order, restless with them. After a while he'd simply chalked it up to a streak of fecklessness in his character, tried not
to lead the poor dear things on, let them down gently when the infatuation began to fade, and decided he just wasn't the
marrying type of wizard. (Neither was Aberforth, after all. Although that was more due to.... Well, never mind. Aberforth and
ones' own love life were best not thought of in the same moment.)
"I beg your pardon," he said to the lovely young thing, and darted to the kerb to retrieve a package in imminent danger of being
trod on by a horse. "How clumsy of me, Miss --"
He darted back to avoid being trod on himself, and promptly stepped squarely onto one of the other packages.
Interesting, the part of him Flamel had trained in strict alchemical observation noted. Yielding, but not too. Decidedly sponge-y
texture. Faint odour of vanilla and sugar, and nice gritty little bits beneath the heel....
Blast it, I've trod on the girl's fairy cakes.
Negotiations by thistlerose: A lovely, perfectly characterized filling-the-gaps fic, set (and written) between HBP and DH. Whilst doing some Diagon Alley shopping in anticipation of Bill and Fleur's wedding, Ginny runs into the estranged Percy. They don't really come to terms. ~1400 words; PG.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "You were spying. You should know."
"I just saw you go in with Fleur Delacour and her sister."
"Really?" said Ginny tartly. "If you like, you can watch me go in again." She started to go around him, but he moved and blocked
her way. She glared up at him...
"Let me go," she said.
"You came out looking for me," said Percy.
"I was curious, all right? And bored. You'd better go before Mum sees you and makes a scene." She tried again to shoulder past him,
but he caught her by her forearms. "I can beat you," she warned. "I can't hex you, but I can kick."
Percy bent close. She recoiled, and he shook her - not hard. "Look, I just want to know how Bill is, all right? I take it the wedding is still on."
"Yes," Ginny said. "You see, some people don't mind being associated with the Weasleys." A few weeks ago, she laughed at the notion of
ever defending Fleur.
Brilliant re-interpretations (via perposterice) of what happens when fanfic goes wrong.
The Grapevine by vulpeculary.
Prompt "summery": "Draco corners Ginny with a muffin cause he doesn't think she's eating right, Ginny refuses to eat it... romance develops."
Kevin told me that Peeves found him lying all crumpled up in the corridor.
Jelly Baby by minnow_53.
Prompt "summery": "Hermione comes back after summer perfect and gorgeous, a hunky Draco is instantly smitten and his spine turns to gloop."
Draco Malfoy lay in his hospital bed at Hogwarts, tears rolling slowly down his cheeks. His spine, turned incurably to gloop, would never support his fine, muscular legs again. He would never play Quidditch again, never fly again… He would die without ever experiencing physical love. At the thought, a particularly loud sob escaped his manly throat.
Fanart: "Best of Summary Executions" Sketches by ildi_bp (NSFW). Automatically merits a look for its take on "Death Eater meeting; no slash."