*flails and cuddles this story to her* This was wonderful. Uber wonderful. The line about Draco signaling Harry to "get on with the compliments" just made me die laughing.
I think what I liked about this so much was that you didn't treat the problem as anything more or less than a problem that turned inevitable. Therefore, Harry made do and moved on when he could. Optimism is fantastic and healing is a miracle, but at some point you work with what you can and continue to live...even if in 'another country'. I dunno, this seems very realistic to me, rather than the way a lot of people treat or talk about disabilities.
Oh, this just made my night so badly it's not even funny. And it's not even Christmas Eve here!
Much love and huggles for this story (and making me wish I knew Latin!) -Jolene
I considered healing Harry's curse, but I didn't think it would be a good idea in the end. After all, he put so much effort into proving that he could be an independent person even with the curse. And if there was a simple solution, the Healers would have found it.
I'm studying Latin now, and it's a struggle, but worth it.
Let us live, my Lesbia, and love. As for all the rumors of those stern old men, Let us value them at a mere penny.
Suns may set and yet rise again, but Us, with our brief light, can set but once. The night which falls is one never-ending sleep.
Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred. Then, another thousand, and a second hundred. Then, yet another thousand, and a hundred.
Which cuts off before this part:
Then, when we have counted up many thousands, Let us shake the abacus[3], so that no one may know the number, And become jealous when they see How many kisses we have shared.
Amazingly cool tale, that I loved.kyaerieDecember 24 2009, 07:37:50 UTC
And because I found this on Wiki, I thought I'd put it here:
A free-verse translation of the Latin text:
Let us live, my (Harry), and love. As for all the rumors of those stern old men, Let us value them at a mere penny.
Suns may set and yet rise again, but Us, with our brief light, can set but once. The night which falls is one never-ending sleep.
Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred. Then, another thousand, and a second hundred. Then, yet another thousand, and a hundred.
(And Harry rolls over and cuts him off, but the rest goes thus)
Then, when we have counted up many thousands, Let us shake the abacus[3], so that no one may know the number, And become jealous when they see How many kisses we have shared.
Thank you! I certainly don't think all doctors are like this, but I can see the Healers in the wizarding world growing weary and impatient when they're confronted with injuries that won't respond to their magic.
Comments 61
I think what I liked about this so much was that you didn't treat the problem as anything more or less than a problem that turned inevitable. Therefore, Harry made do and moved on when he could. Optimism is fantastic and healing is a miracle, but at some point you work with what you can and continue to live...even if in 'another country'. I dunno, this seems very realistic to me, rather than the way a lot of people treat or talk about disabilities.
Oh, this just made my night so badly it's not even funny. And it's not even Christmas Eve here!
Much love and huggles for this story (and making me wish I knew Latin!)
-Jolene
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I considered healing Harry's curse, but I didn't think it would be a good idea in the end. After all, he put so much effort into proving that he could be an independent person even with the curse. And if there was a simple solution, the Healers would have found it.
I'm studying Latin now, and it's a struggle, but worth it.
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Please could we get a translation for the poem at the end?
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As for all the rumors of those stern old men,
Let us value them at a mere penny.
Suns may set and yet rise again, but
Us, with our brief light, can set but once.
The night which falls is one never-ending sleep.
Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred.
Then, another thousand, and a second hundred.
Then, yet another thousand, and a hundred.
Which cuts off before this part:
Then, when we have counted up many thousands,
Let us shake the abacus[3], so that no one may know the number,
And become jealous when they see
How many kisses we have shared.
It's a poem by Catullus
Reply
A free-verse translation of the Latin text:
Let us live, my (Harry), and love.
As for all the rumors of those stern old men,
Let us value them at a mere penny.
Suns may set and yet rise again, but
Us, with our brief light, can set but once.
The night which falls is one never-ending sleep.
Give me a thousand kisses, then a hundred.
Then, another thousand, and a second hundred.
Then, yet another thousand, and a hundred.
(And Harry rolls over and cuts him off, but the rest goes thus)
Then, when we have counted up many thousands,
Let us shake the abacus[3], so that no one may know the number,
And become jealous when they see
How many kisses we have shared.
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