Day 14. your deepest secret hidden in a piece of fiction
I'm not sure what my deepest secret is, either, but these three HP passages are quoted in the spirit of day 14.
Harry seized one of the POTTER REALLY STINKS badges off the table and chucked it, as hard as he could, across the room. It hit Ron on the forehead and bounced off.
There you go," Harry said. "Something for you to wear on Tuesday. You might even have a scar now, if you're lucky… That's what you want, isn't it?"
He strode across the room toward the stairs; he half expected Ron to stop him, he would even have liked Ron to throw a punch at him, but Ron just stood there in his too-small pajamas, and Harry, having stormed upstairs, lay awake in bed fuming for a long time afterward and didn't hear him come up to bed.
---Harry looked down upon Dumbledore's face and experienced a surge of savage pleasure: now he would know all the things that Dumbledore had never thought it worth telling him, whether Dumbledore wanted him to, or not.
----"Why return? We were better without you, happier without you, glad of your absence... We laughed at your stupidity, your cowardice, your presumption-"
"Presumption!" echoed the Riddle- Hermione, who was more beautiful and yet more terrible than the real Hermione: She swayed, cackling, before Ron, who looked horrified yet transfixed, the sword hanging pointlessly at his side. "Who could look at you, who would ever look at you, beside Harry Potter? What have you ever done, compared with the Chosen One? What are you, compared with the Boy Who Lived?"
"Ron, stab it! STAB IT!" Harry yelled, but Ron did not move: His eyes were wide, and the Riddle- Harry and the Riddle- Hermione were reflected in them, their hair swirling like flames, their eyes shining red, their voices lifted in an evil duet.
"You mother confessed," sneered Riddle-Harry, while Riddle-Hermione jeered, "that she would have preferred me as a son, would be glad to exchange..."
"Who wouldn't prefer him, what woman would take you, you are nothing, nothing, nothing to him," crooned Riddle-Hermione, and she stretched like a snake and entwined herself around Riddle- Harry, wrapping him in a close embrace: Their lips met.
On the ground in front of them, Ron's face filled with anguish. He raised the sword high, his arms shaking.
"Do it, Ron!" Harry yelled.
Ron looked toward him, and Harry thought he saw a trace of scarlet in his eyes.
"Ron-?"
Bit short on quotations now, sorry.
Harry seized one of the POTTER REALLY STINKS badges off the table and chucked it, as hard as he could, across the room. It hit Ron on the forehead and bounced off.
There you go," Harry said. "Something for you to wear on Tuesday. You might even have a scar now, if you're lucky… That's what you want, isn't it?"
He strode across the room toward the stairs; he half expected Ron to stop him, he would even have liked Ron to throw a punch at him, but Ron just stood there in his too-small pajamas, and Harry, having stormed upstairs, lay awake in bed fuming for a long time afterward and didn't hear him come up to bed.
---Harry looked down upon Dumbledore's face and experienced a surge of savage pleasure: now he would know all the things that Dumbledore had never thought it worth telling him, whether Dumbledore wanted him to, or not.
----"Why return? We were better without you, happier without you, glad of your absence... We laughed at your stupidity, your cowardice, your presumption-"
"Presumption!" echoed the Riddle- Hermione, who was more beautiful and yet more terrible than the real Hermione: She swayed, cackling, before Ron, who looked horrified yet transfixed, the sword hanging pointlessly at his side. "Who could look at you, who would ever look at you, beside Harry Potter? What have you ever done, compared with the Chosen One? What are you, compared with the Boy Who Lived?"
"Ron, stab it! STAB IT!" Harry yelled, but Ron did not move: His eyes were wide, and the Riddle- Harry and the Riddle- Hermione were reflected in them, their hair swirling like flames, their eyes shining red, their voices lifted in an evil duet.
"You mother confessed," sneered Riddle-Harry, while Riddle-Hermione jeered, "that she would have preferred me as a son, would be glad to exchange..."
"Who wouldn't prefer him, what woman would take you, you are nothing, nothing, nothing to him," crooned Riddle-Hermione, and she stretched like a snake and entwined herself around Riddle- Harry, wrapping him in a close embrace: Their lips met.
On the ground in front of them, Ron's face filled with anguish. He raised the sword high, his arms shaking.
"Do it, Ron!" Harry yelled.
Ron looked toward him, and Harry thought he saw a trace of scarlet in his eyes.
"Ron-?"
Bit short on quotations now, sorry.