Where J.J. Goes On For Quite a Bit about Dungeons Sirius HA!
I love hp_dungeons for a few characters in particular. While I follow the Harry/Ron plot with interest, and I'm always curious what's going on with Snape, I'll drop whatever I'm doing to read an entry by Sirius. One of my favorite features is Sirius' use of caps lock, and his frequent interjections of HA! It's funny, and fitting. Dungeons-Sirius has an incredibly distinct voice in his posts, and he's always over the top, always shouting and making jokes and being unpredictable and I just love him so much.
The Dugeons storyline is pretty simple - Set seven (I think) years after Harry's seventh year and the destruction of Voldemort, the wizarding world goes on, except that people now have livejournals. Sirius' storyline is more complicated - Harry and Luna rescued him from beyond the veil, and he's been reinstated as an Auror, and he teaches Auror trainees(and his posts about class are some of the most amusing.) He's seeing Luna now (I KNOW - but he clearly still loves Lupin, as he reveals in some of his filtered posts) and he delights in being a godfather to Harry, hanging out with Neville, and, of course, taunting Snape.
His journal is snuff_dog. He doesn't have an overwhelming number of entries, and I went back and re-read all of them easily.
Very soon after Sirius is rescued from the veil, he writes about how things have changed with Remus:
Sometimes it's such a fucking curse to be a dog. Dogs can smell many things humans can't -- things like fear and love and pain. Moony even smells different now. I noticed it the moment I bounded into his rooms. He still smells like Moony, it isn't as though he's become a different person. But he used to smell of mysteries, wonderful mysteries that I wanted to spend my life discovering.
Now he smells of secrets.
This entry is when he and Remus split up. It kills me.
This is about as heart-wrenching as Sirius gets - in a letter to Harry . There are so many details that are just so completely on.
Thank you for giving me my life back. But now that I'm here, it seems I'm more of an annoyance to you than anything else. I know you love me. I can smell it. But I think you love the idea of me -- your long-lost godfather, your last connection with your parents -- far more than living, inconvenient, irritating old Padfoot.
It was much easier to love me when I was dead, wasn't it? Admit it. Nowadays I hardly ever see you, and when I do, half the time you're scolding me for something. Me, who's twice your age, who held you in my arms within an hour after you were born, who you say you think of as a dad. You scold me. For being loud and angry, for acting without thinking, for behaving in an unseemly fashion. For being me, really. And I let you. If you were anyone else I'd swat you like a fly, but you're my Harry and I love you with every breath of my body, and every time you tear into me it rips me apart because I cannot be what you want.
He doesn't love me either, you know. Remus. Or rather, he doesn't want to let himself. I can smell he does, deep down, but he won't let me be there for him. We could heal each other, I know it, I can feel it in my bones, but he won't let me get close enough to his heart to even try. That's been ripping me apart too.
This is Sirius' first Class with the Auror trainees:
I breezed in, kicked Ron's feet out of the way (and oh what a look he gave me!) and said, "RIGHT! You're locked in a cell without your wand. It's 10 feet by 10 feet square with a 10 foot high ceiling. It's rough stone, all different kinds of stone, dark grey light grey streaks of brown yellow red little shiny bits everything. Very rough floor covered with dirty filthy straw. The door is heavy wood and battened over with iron strips. It has a tiny grilled window in it. High up in the opposite wall there's a grilled window you can see daylight through, but it would be too small for you to crawl through even if you got the grills out. There's one lit torch in a rusty bracket on the wall. There's a filthy blanket in one corner and some owl droppings in another corner. The only reason you're not dead yet is the enemy are coming for you in 15 minutes to take you for questioning - and all that means is they're going to torture you so badly you'll start screaming for veritaserum so you can tell them everything you know." I pointed at one random trainee and said, "You! What do you do?"
The trainee - a stocky lad with dark hair and freckles - looked at me with owl eyes and stammered something meaningless. "You're dead!" I yelled at him and turned to another trainee. "You! What do you do?" She looked bookish and intense and frightened, and she stared at me and squeaked, "I, um, kill myself so they can't get any of my vital information?"
I stared at her for a moment, incredulous, but recovered quickly and asked her how the hell she planned to kill herself. "Um, use the blanket to hang myself from the torch bracket?"
I nodded, pretending to consider it. "I'll give you points for quick thinking, but it's still a BLOODY STUPID IDEA!" I roared. "You can't kill yourself the first time you get in a jam or your career will last all of five days and we'll have wasted all the time and money spent training you. Weasley!" I called out, turning to him. "For Merlin's sake give me an intelligent answer! What do you do?"
He shrugged without looking at me and sullenly said, "Apparate home for tea?"
I threw my arms up and yelled, "THANK you!" I went over and perched on the desk to face the class. "What is wrong with you people? Did I tell you that you couldn't Apparate?"
The next class, he teaches them Mid-Air Apparation and later, Apparating into Warded Spaces
This sort of post is what especially makes Sirius' humor stand out. Here are his thoughts about his pack .
Sirius' class finally asks him about Azkaban .:
I rubbed my forehead and sat back down. "I suppose I brought that on myself," I admitted. "And I reckon I owe you for putting up with me for this long. First," I started, ticking off on my fingers, "Azkaban is worse than you can imagine. Worse - worse than anything. But sometimes," I said, pinning each of them with my eyes, "it's worth it. If you have nothing in your life you'd risk Azkaban for, I pity the lot of you.
Later in the post, he continues with,= this: Something behind my eyes was pounding, killing me. "I am trying to keep you alive. I swear it," I insisted. "By the time I was your age I'd been hunting down Death Eaters for two years. People were being murdered in their beds. Everyone I went to school with - their lives were ruined. And the whole bloody mess ended up on the shoulders of a baby who could barely walk! Yes, I went to Azkaban. I'd do it again if I had to. And I bloody well may have died. I don't know, neither does anyone else. I've been a convict, a fugitive, a stray cur and a dead man, but I'M STILL HERE! So I don't give a bloody blue FIG what you say about me, but don't you DARE EVER, EVER say WORD ONE against Harry Potter until you've done HALF what he's done for EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU! You'd be DEAD! You'd be SLAVES! You'd be--"
There's some sort of pratical joke with haggis that goes on for a bit, and then this entry , which still makes me laugh till my stomach hurts:
MY HOUSE ELF IS DANCING AROUND IN A GREAT KILT PLAYING "AWA' WI' YOUR WITCHCRAFT" ON A HOT WATER BOTTLE.
Things are quiet for a bit, and then all of a sudden Sirius meets Bellatrix Lestrange in Muggle London and tries to apprehend her. These two excellent posts follow:
Injured Sirius at Hogwarts Infirmary :
typing with one finger on left hand is a right pain. without big letters i feel mute.
wait - CAPS LOCK HA MUCH BETTER NOW
I am fine but BORED. Harry - you are trumps of course for putting up with me but I see how you look and you are thinking this is your fault which is WRONG. Auror is my JOB. Bitch is on the apprehend-on-sight list. Simple.
Ron - sorry I had to cancel class. Tell your classmates I am fine. This is why they must LEARN EVERYTHING. MY GAMES ARE NOT GAMES. I am injured but I could have been DEAD. I am NOT DEAD just crispy HA. Blasting curse worked a treat. She hit the wall SPLAT like a haggis HA. Next lesson we do blasting curses. Dodging and shielding in dueling. We all will use our wands in our other hand HA.
Then, Sirius' report to Moody
Check out hp_dungeons really, it's great fun. And I haven't even told you about bot_a_glove yet. HA!
The Dugeons storyline is pretty simple - Set seven (I think) years after Harry's seventh year and the destruction of Voldemort, the wizarding world goes on, except that people now have livejournals. Sirius' storyline is more complicated - Harry and Luna rescued him from beyond the veil, and he's been reinstated as an Auror, and he teaches Auror trainees(and his posts about class are some of the most amusing.) He's seeing Luna now (I KNOW - but he clearly still loves Lupin, as he reveals in some of his filtered posts) and he delights in being a godfather to Harry, hanging out with Neville, and, of course, taunting Snape.
His journal is snuff_dog. He doesn't have an overwhelming number of entries, and I went back and re-read all of them easily.
Very soon after Sirius is rescued from the veil, he writes about how things have changed with Remus:
Sometimes it's such a fucking curse to be a dog. Dogs can smell many things humans can't -- things like fear and love and pain. Moony even smells different now. I noticed it the moment I bounded into his rooms. He still smells like Moony, it isn't as though he's become a different person. But he used to smell of mysteries, wonderful mysteries that I wanted to spend my life discovering.
Now he smells of secrets.
This entry is when he and Remus split up. It kills me.
This is about as heart-wrenching as Sirius gets - in a letter to Harry . There are so many details that are just so completely on.
Thank you for giving me my life back. But now that I'm here, it seems I'm more of an annoyance to you than anything else. I know you love me. I can smell it. But I think you love the idea of me -- your long-lost godfather, your last connection with your parents -- far more than living, inconvenient, irritating old Padfoot.
It was much easier to love me when I was dead, wasn't it? Admit it. Nowadays I hardly ever see you, and when I do, half the time you're scolding me for something. Me, who's twice your age, who held you in my arms within an hour after you were born, who you say you think of as a dad. You scold me. For being loud and angry, for acting without thinking, for behaving in an unseemly fashion. For being me, really. And I let you. If you were anyone else I'd swat you like a fly, but you're my Harry and I love you with every breath of my body, and every time you tear into me it rips me apart because I cannot be what you want.
He doesn't love me either, you know. Remus. Or rather, he doesn't want to let himself. I can smell he does, deep down, but he won't let me be there for him. We could heal each other, I know it, I can feel it in my bones, but he won't let me get close enough to his heart to even try. That's been ripping me apart too.
This is Sirius' first Class with the Auror trainees:
I breezed in, kicked Ron's feet out of the way (and oh what a look he gave me!) and said, "RIGHT! You're locked in a cell without your wand. It's 10 feet by 10 feet square with a 10 foot high ceiling. It's rough stone, all different kinds of stone, dark grey light grey streaks of brown yellow red little shiny bits everything. Very rough floor covered with dirty filthy straw. The door is heavy wood and battened over with iron strips. It has a tiny grilled window in it. High up in the opposite wall there's a grilled window you can see daylight through, but it would be too small for you to crawl through even if you got the grills out. There's one lit torch in a rusty bracket on the wall. There's a filthy blanket in one corner and some owl droppings in another corner. The only reason you're not dead yet is the enemy are coming for you in 15 minutes to take you for questioning - and all that means is they're going to torture you so badly you'll start screaming for veritaserum so you can tell them everything you know." I pointed at one random trainee and said, "You! What do you do?"
The trainee - a stocky lad with dark hair and freckles - looked at me with owl eyes and stammered something meaningless. "You're dead!" I yelled at him and turned to another trainee. "You! What do you do?" She looked bookish and intense and frightened, and she stared at me and squeaked, "I, um, kill myself so they can't get any of my vital information?"
I stared at her for a moment, incredulous, but recovered quickly and asked her how the hell she planned to kill herself. "Um, use the blanket to hang myself from the torch bracket?"
I nodded, pretending to consider it. "I'll give you points for quick thinking, but it's still a BLOODY STUPID IDEA!" I roared. "You can't kill yourself the first time you get in a jam or your career will last all of five days and we'll have wasted all the time and money spent training you. Weasley!" I called out, turning to him. "For Merlin's sake give me an intelligent answer! What do you do?"
He shrugged without looking at me and sullenly said, "Apparate home for tea?"
I threw my arms up and yelled, "THANK you!" I went over and perched on the desk to face the class. "What is wrong with you people? Did I tell you that you couldn't Apparate?"
The next class, he teaches them Mid-Air Apparation and later, Apparating into Warded Spaces
This sort of post is what especially makes Sirius' humor stand out. Here are his thoughts about his pack .
Sirius' class finally asks him about Azkaban .:
I rubbed my forehead and sat back down. "I suppose I brought that on myself," I admitted. "And I reckon I owe you for putting up with me for this long. First," I started, ticking off on my fingers, "Azkaban is worse than you can imagine. Worse - worse than anything. But sometimes," I said, pinning each of them with my eyes, "it's worth it. If you have nothing in your life you'd risk Azkaban for, I pity the lot of you.
Later in the post, he continues with,= this: Something behind my eyes was pounding, killing me. "I am trying to keep you alive. I swear it," I insisted. "By the time I was your age I'd been hunting down Death Eaters for two years. People were being murdered in their beds. Everyone I went to school with - their lives were ruined. And the whole bloody mess ended up on the shoulders of a baby who could barely walk! Yes, I went to Azkaban. I'd do it again if I had to. And I bloody well may have died. I don't know, neither does anyone else. I've been a convict, a fugitive, a stray cur and a dead man, but I'M STILL HERE! So I don't give a bloody blue FIG what you say about me, but don't you DARE EVER, EVER say WORD ONE against Harry Potter until you've done HALF what he's done for EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU! You'd be DEAD! You'd be SLAVES! You'd be--"
There's some sort of pratical joke with haggis that goes on for a bit, and then this entry , which still makes me laugh till my stomach hurts:
MY HOUSE ELF IS DANCING AROUND IN A GREAT KILT PLAYING "AWA' WI' YOUR WITCHCRAFT" ON A HOT WATER BOTTLE.
Things are quiet for a bit, and then all of a sudden Sirius meets Bellatrix Lestrange in Muggle London and tries to apprehend her. These two excellent posts follow:
Injured Sirius at Hogwarts Infirmary :
typing with one finger on left hand is a right pain. without big letters i feel mute.
wait - CAPS LOCK HA MUCH BETTER NOW
I am fine but BORED. Harry - you are trumps of course for putting up with me but I see how you look and you are thinking this is your fault which is WRONG. Auror is my JOB. Bitch is on the apprehend-on-sight list. Simple.
Ron - sorry I had to cancel class. Tell your classmates I am fine. This is why they must LEARN EVERYTHING. MY GAMES ARE NOT GAMES. I am injured but I could have been DEAD. I am NOT DEAD just crispy HA. Blasting curse worked a treat. She hit the wall SPLAT like a haggis HA. Next lesson we do blasting curses. Dodging and shielding in dueling. We all will use our wands in our other hand HA.
Then, Sirius' report to Moody
Check out hp_dungeons really, it's great fun. And I haven't even told you about bot_a_glove yet. HA!