Hi, I'm moojja. This is my first Post, and I'm still trying to figure everything out.
But I do have a little drabblet for you guys. :-) Something strange, and not really part of anything.
Hogwarts is quite cold in the winter, and colder still in the morning. Down in the dungeon, the wind sounds like a rattle, shaking him into tiny pieces, and up on the roof, the wind feels like fingers, putting him back together. He stands under the showers, waiting to be put back together, and he waits on the roof, wanting to be broken apart. He's not sure now, which is which, and what he wants. But he knows the wind, and he trust the wind. He can feel the patterns,its turns and its current. He knows how to throw the quffle so the aim is straight and true. And Wood would know how to block and smile. The games the children play, and the games that the boys play. He wonders if Wood can beat him this time. Hey, keeper, can you catch this? He threws down his broom, and he falls after it. He loves flying and falling isn't that dissimilar.
And all the spell in the world couldn't put Humpty Dumpty back again. The falling is just the beginning.
Like to hear what you guys think of it. Please comment, good or bad.