Fanfiction
I have recently discovered an ingenious thing called "fanfiction." I'm not sure why it's called fanfiction, but anyway, there's a lot out there about people I know! Some's even about me, but I think that's just Gilderoy Lockhart up to his old tricks.
Anyway, I decided to try my hand at this "fanfiction." It's not very long, but it's just my first try.
Harry stepped into the richly furnished room. The furniture was upholstered with green velvet, and there were rich green drapes hanging over the windows. The carpeting was plush. To one side of the room was a huge four-poster bed, with hangings that were, of course, green.
Sitting on a couch in one corner, looking dreary amidst all his splendor, was Draco Malfoy. His blond hair fell across his face, hiding his silver eyes. He was staring out a window.
"Draco," said Harry, his voice breaking ever so slightly.
Draco's head whipped around, his bright hair making a brilliant, swirling display.
"H-Harry?" he asked.
"I thought you were dead," said Harry. "I knew your betrayal was just an act, a ploy put on for the benefit of the Death Eaters. I knew you were really planning what happened all along with Albus Dumbledore, master of conspiracies. But then Snape took you to the Death Eaters, and I thought...I thought they'd killed you."
"No," said Draco, shaking his head forlornly. "They've just imprisoned me here, in this godforsaken room."
"Oh, Draco..." said Harry. He stepped towards the boy, and Draco got up and came to meet him in the middle of the room. Then they kissed, a beautiful kiss full of passion and hope for a better future. The kiss held the promise that Harry would get Draco out of this room, out of this house full of death, and that Draco would never leave Harry again. It held waking up next to each other. It held countless evenings to watch as the sun went down, turning the sky into a verifiable pallet for a watercolor artist. Most of all, it held the idea that there would be many, many more kisses just like it.
"I thought you'd never come," murmured Draco.
I think it's rather true-to-life, don't you?
Anyway, I decided to try my hand at this "fanfiction." It's not very long, but it's just my first try.
Harry stepped into the richly furnished room. The furniture was upholstered with green velvet, and there were rich green drapes hanging over the windows. The carpeting was plush. To one side of the room was a huge four-poster bed, with hangings that were, of course, green.
Sitting on a couch in one corner, looking dreary amidst all his splendor, was Draco Malfoy. His blond hair fell across his face, hiding his silver eyes. He was staring out a window.
"Draco," said Harry, his voice breaking ever so slightly.
Draco's head whipped around, his bright hair making a brilliant, swirling display.
"H-Harry?" he asked.
"I thought you were dead," said Harry. "I knew your betrayal was just an act, a ploy put on for the benefit of the Death Eaters. I knew you were really planning what happened all along with Albus Dumbledore, master of conspiracies. But then Snape took you to the Death Eaters, and I thought...I thought they'd killed you."
"No," said Draco, shaking his head forlornly. "They've just imprisoned me here, in this godforsaken room."
"Oh, Draco..." said Harry. He stepped towards the boy, and Draco got up and came to meet him in the middle of the room. Then they kissed, a beautiful kiss full of passion and hope for a better future. The kiss held the promise that Harry would get Draco out of this room, out of this house full of death, and that Draco would never leave Harry again. It held waking up next to each other. It held countless evenings to watch as the sun went down, turning the sky into a verifiable pallet for a watercolor artist. Most of all, it held the idea that there would be many, many more kisses just like it.
"I thought you'd never come," murmured Draco.
I think it's rather true-to-life, don't you?