Flickers of Conscience
Glimpses, really. Meanderings and musings. Little much of anything.
I've been working like a fiend. I'm falling apart. I'm also moving in roughly two weeks. For shame, too much shit to do.
The run-down:
There has been movement on dh_conscience, the great bitch of wank and fail. Some highlights include:
- Beretta, Chapter 58, The Laughing Heart:
Draco didn't even pretend to laugh. It was a horrible attempt at a joke to begin with, but Harry was trying to make conversation, trying to help Draco take his mind off things. He puffed on his cigarette, staring at nothing, slim fingers twitching in the cold.
Draco breathed-a smoke monster, whipping up a tiny storm around himself. He looked fierce as any fairy tale dragon, great jets of it shooting from his nose as he snorted, incredulous.
Cigarette number three.
Harry quickly became transfixed, watching the way the smoke curled-fell from the full wall of Draco’s lip, from the pink curves and peaks, leaking down his neck. Harry’s mouth was open before he knew it, catching smoke, catching Draco’s lips. He drew it from the man’s lungs-pulling it out. Smoke rose from their mouths, cigarette and breath in the cold air.
Harry’s glasses began to fog.
“You shouldn’t chain smoke,” he muttered, Draco’s lip held between his teeth.
Draco chuckled. “Piss off.”
- Conscience, Chapter 75, Lacrimosa:
Colin Creevey glanced up from the bewitching sight of his girlfriend’s tits.
He cocked his head, protuberant ears straining. “Did you hear that?”
From her back, Valya blinked at him. “Hear vot?” She attempted to drag him back down to the mattress by his rather skewed hairstyle. He resisted.
“Seriously. I thought I heard someone shouting.”
- Beretta, Chapter 69, Sunlight Through The Flags:
The big fellow cracked his knuckles. He was Serbian.
Harry Potter knew a sum total of four phrases in Serbian: “hello,” “bitch,” “mother fucker,” and “I am fucking your God out of the Heavens... with my penis.” None of these were going to help him.
- Conscience, Chapter 66, Caught Beneath The Landslide:
Hermione caught Malfoy and Luna on their way out.
“Um, Malfoy...” she glanced about, making sure no one was paying them any mind. She pitched her voice low. “You wouldn't happen to have Harry's map, would you? It would be a big help.”
Malfoy's pink mouth canted in a frown. “Unfortunately not. It's with Harry.”
“Does that mean he's coming back soon?” Luna asked hopefully.
Malfoy shook his head, patting Luna's hand atop his Dark Marked forearm. “I doubt it. You know how his schedule is.”
“So what does he need the map for? If he's not here.” Ron had snuck up on them from behind. He rested a hand on Hermione's shoulder, leaning close to keep their conversation hushed.
Malfoy snorted. “Would you believe he gets a kick out of watching us?”
It was Hermione's turn to laugh. “More like spying on you,” she corrected with a wink.
Malfoy laughed, too-a short, almost barking sound. It reminded her of Sirius, the way the departed man would burst out with that hard clip of his, holding his ribs as he chuckled. Draco and Sirius were family, after all. The association made sense. She'd simply never seen it before. But, especially around the eyes....
- Beretta, Chapter 68, February:
Dad was sobbing.
Dudley had never seen his father cry. He'd seen his father in towering rages, in anger and in violent, howling fits. He'd even seen his father happy a few times over the years. But he'd never seen Dad cry. Not until now.
- Beretta, Chapter 61, Hunter:
Snape shook his greasy head. All Harry could see was the back of it as the former Potions Professor muttered to himself. “You have a death wish, Potter. And I daresay this ought to do the trick.”
So that's it: what I've been up to. New Conscience coming in a couple weeks, as soon as I can settle in and get something solvent on the page. Right now it's all in pieces.
Sapiophile, out.
sordid