Still alive! Also: HP Fic
So, I haven't posted in three and a half years... I've been lurking in several fandoms in this time (mainly Supernatural and Sherlock) but simply couldn't finish any writing - I've got lots of first sentences that don't go anywhere. It's horrible.
Two weeks ago I saw 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows' as a double feature at the cinema (I hadn't watched the first part before) and I mostly loved it (I didn't like the changes in Harry's and Voldemort's last battle and the way they aged the actors up for the epilogue of doom was unintentionally funny). I especially liked the way the story of the three brothers was told - which made me write a triple-drabble of the three Black sisters and their relationships to the stories of their childhood (title is from the Good Charlotte song of the same name):
All Black
Disclaimer: not mine, all JKR's
Bellatrix had always loved the family chronicles with their stories about pure wizards and their fights against murderous Muggles and perfidious blood-traitors. She’d preferred them over made up fairy-tales because they were real and whispered the unspoken promise that someday she’d be included in them.
The man she was to marry (and marry him she would, no matter that she couldn’t stand him; she wasn’t a disgrace like Andromeda) was utterly unremarkable but she didn’t care - by then she was at the side of the one she believed would overturn all history books and rewrite the fate of the world.
Andromeda fell in love with Ted because of his neverending amazement about the magical world. She had always been the sceptical one among her sisters; never able to just enjoy a moment or believe without proof, even pointing out logical flaws in the fairy-tales of her childhood. Ted’s enthusiasm, infectious and overbordering, quieted that niggling part of her.
When she was about to leave her family home for good, she was surprised how easy it was. In the middle of the night she had a house-elf pack her things while she went to blast her name off the tapestry herself.
Narcissa was the youngest, the pretty one - almost a fairy-tale princess. She devoured stories where everyone ended up happily ever after. Nobody ever had the heart to tell her that life wasn’t like that. Not that she would have believed it, especially after Lucius had begun to court her. She ignored the inexorably culminating political situation along with her sisters’ respective idiocies.
All her illusions came crashing down the day after her son was born, as her husband’s Lord visited the Manor. Looking into his rigid, dehumanised face, she knew that this was not going to have a happy ending.
Two weeks ago I saw 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows' as a double feature at the cinema (I hadn't watched the first part before) and I mostly loved it (I didn't like the changes in Harry's and Voldemort's last battle and the way they aged the actors up for the epilogue of doom was unintentionally funny). I especially liked the way the story of the three brothers was told - which made me write a triple-drabble of the three Black sisters and their relationships to the stories of their childhood (title is from the Good Charlotte song of the same name):
All Black
Disclaimer: not mine, all JKR's
Bellatrix had always loved the family chronicles with their stories about pure wizards and their fights against murderous Muggles and perfidious blood-traitors. She’d preferred them over made up fairy-tales because they were real and whispered the unspoken promise that someday she’d be included in them.
The man she was to marry (and marry him she would, no matter that she couldn’t stand him; she wasn’t a disgrace like Andromeda) was utterly unremarkable but she didn’t care - by then she was at the side of the one she believed would overturn all history books and rewrite the fate of the world.
Andromeda fell in love with Ted because of his neverending amazement about the magical world. She had always been the sceptical one among her sisters; never able to just enjoy a moment or believe without proof, even pointing out logical flaws in the fairy-tales of her childhood. Ted’s enthusiasm, infectious and overbordering, quieted that niggling part of her.
When she was about to leave her family home for good, she was surprised how easy it was. In the middle of the night she had a house-elf pack her things while she went to blast her name off the tapestry herself.
Narcissa was the youngest, the pretty one - almost a fairy-tale princess. She devoured stories where everyone ended up happily ever after. Nobody ever had the heart to tell her that life wasn’t like that. Not that she would have believed it, especially after Lucius had begun to court her. She ignored the inexorably culminating political situation along with her sisters’ respective idiocies.
All her illusions came crashing down the day after her son was born, as her husband’s Lord visited the Manor. Looking into his rigid, dehumanised face, she knew that this was not going to have a happy ending.