RP: The Dark Side of the Force
Date: 19th August 2005
Characters: Horace Slughorn
Location: At home, early afternoon.
Status: Private
Summary: Horace had another disturbed night
Completion: Complete
"Watch and observe, young Riddle," said Horace. "Soon your Death Eaters will attack, and they will learn of the power of this fully operational castle..." He turned to the portrait of Albus Dumbledore, and gave it an ironic salute, then to his trusty lieutenant. "Is all ready, Darth Potter?"
"On your command, sire."
"Activate."
The castle turrets swung round, and from every window long wands appeared, tracking the brooms and their riders. Horace peered into the crystal ball that controlled them, and said "Aveda.."
"..Ke..." Horace sat up in bed, wand in hand, choking back the word that wanted to be said. He realised, almost too late, that trying to tire himself out by a visit to a Muggle film marathon in Exeter had been a bad mistake. Far from stopping his dreams, it had made them more vivid.
Outside it was a rather dull morning... no, afternoon. There was a tap on the door, and Retcom came in with a cup of tea. Horace sipped it, gloomily considering his options. He could see a Healer, perhaps, but he really didn't feel ill. In fact he'd slept perfectly over the festival weekend, when he'd stayed in Exeter.
That settled it. There was something wrong, but it was a problem with the house, not with Horace. All he needed to do was work out what it was.
Characters: Horace Slughorn
Location: At home, early afternoon.
Status: Private
Summary: Horace had another disturbed night
Completion: Complete
"Watch and observe, young Riddle," said Horace. "Soon your Death Eaters will attack, and they will learn of the power of this fully operational castle..." He turned to the portrait of Albus Dumbledore, and gave it an ironic salute, then to his trusty lieutenant. "Is all ready, Darth Potter?"
"On your command, sire."
"Activate."
The castle turrets swung round, and from every window long wands appeared, tracking the brooms and their riders. Horace peered into the crystal ball that controlled them, and said "Aveda.."
"..Ke..." Horace sat up in bed, wand in hand, choking back the word that wanted to be said. He realised, almost too late, that trying to tire himself out by a visit to a Muggle film marathon in Exeter had been a bad mistake. Far from stopping his dreams, it had made them more vivid.
Outside it was a rather dull morning... no, afternoon. There was a tap on the door, and Retcom came in with a cup of tea. Horace sipped it, gloomily considering his options. He could see a Healer, perhaps, but he really didn't feel ill. In fact he'd slept perfectly over the festival weekend, when he'd stayed in Exeter.
That settled it. There was something wrong, but it was a problem with the house, not with Horace. All he needed to do was work out what it was.