![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
(no subject)
*Rubs eyes* I will do a formal review - hopefully later night.
I love Ciaran. In Politics, we were discussing the supreme court and Amendment 8 "Cruel and Unusual Punishments" so Paddy asked us what we considered a cruel and unusual punishment. Here were our answers ^_~
Ruth: Disemboweling
Marie-Elena: Putting salt on your feet and getting a goat to lick it
Ashley: Hanging
Michael: Tied to a car and dragged for miles
Me: Forced to walk naked through town.
Ciaran: Being slapped with a giant fish.
*Dies* *snorts* I proposed marriage right there and then.
My fingers are cold and I have art work for tomorrow so I leave you with a Harry Potter/ Hermione drabble-thing. Behold and PH33R!
Title: Movies and Magic
Rating: G for allusions to suicide
Characters: Harry, Hermione
Summary: Sometimes you fall and only someone else’s hand will pick you up
Notes: Rough, unbeta-ed and came from a conversation with school mates. 317 words.
She walked in and found him kneeling on the floor with his wand pointed at his head. Time slowed – just like those movies where the hero gets ready to blow his brains out except you can’t really bring yourself to care. But she did care – this wasn’t some stupid movie; she had =seen= him break down, oh so slowly, and watched his soul decay. She knew this was going to happen eventually but all her prepared words had left her brain.
He didn’t look up – didn’t even flinch – just said “Leave” in a tone which normally brokered no argument. He had gotten used to getting his own way. Spoilt brat.
“My mum sent me an owl…at the beginning of the war. I thought it was to say goodbye, y’know? But when I opened it there was only one line and do you know what it said?”
Harry didn’t answer but looked at her with burning fragmented eyes behind shattered glasses that hadn’t been repaired. Oh God, oh God - the words caught in her throat and her eyes filled. God help her, she had to get this out quickly or she’d be beside him, on her knees, with her wand.
“It said ‘when everything is gone, only one thing remains…’ ” She didn’t wait for his question as her voice was breaking and the lump in her throat was damn near impossible to ignore.
“ 'Hope.' ”
He stared at her for a lifetime of short, hitching moments, then blinked furiously. His wand drooped as if it was too much of an effort to hold it up and she ran, ran to help him up again. They moved from the room, hands clasped and Hermione knew; He had been broken. He had seen too much.
“I didn’t want to be The Boy Who Lived anymore.” He admitted softly.
She swallowed hard.
“….Hope.” Was all she could reply.
I love Ciaran. In Politics, we were discussing the supreme court and Amendment 8 "Cruel and Unusual Punishments" so Paddy asked us what we considered a cruel and unusual punishment. Here were our answers ^_~
Ruth: Disemboweling
Marie-Elena: Putting salt on your feet and getting a goat to lick it
Ashley: Hanging
Michael: Tied to a car and dragged for miles
Me: Forced to walk naked through town.
Ciaran: Being slapped with a giant fish.
*Dies* *snorts* I proposed marriage right there and then.
My fingers are cold and I have art work for tomorrow so I leave you with a Harry Potter/ Hermione drabble-thing. Behold and PH33R!
Title: Movies and Magic
Rating: G for allusions to suicide
Characters: Harry, Hermione
Summary: Sometimes you fall and only someone else’s hand will pick you up
Notes: Rough, unbeta-ed and came from a conversation with school mates. 317 words.
She walked in and found him kneeling on the floor with his wand pointed at his head. Time slowed – just like those movies where the hero gets ready to blow his brains out except you can’t really bring yourself to care. But she did care – this wasn’t some stupid movie; she had =seen= him break down, oh so slowly, and watched his soul decay. She knew this was going to happen eventually but all her prepared words had left her brain.
He didn’t look up – didn’t even flinch – just said “Leave” in a tone which normally brokered no argument. He had gotten used to getting his own way. Spoilt brat.
“My mum sent me an owl…at the beginning of the war. I thought it was to say goodbye, y’know? But when I opened it there was only one line and do you know what it said?”
Harry didn’t answer but looked at her with burning fragmented eyes behind shattered glasses that hadn’t been repaired. Oh God, oh God - the words caught in her throat and her eyes filled. God help her, she had to get this out quickly or she’d be beside him, on her knees, with her wand.
“It said ‘when everything is gone, only one thing remains…’ ” She didn’t wait for his question as her voice was breaking and the lump in her throat was damn near impossible to ignore.
“ 'Hope.' ”
He stared at her for a lifetime of short, hitching moments, then blinked furiously. His wand drooped as if it was too much of an effort to hold it up and she ran, ran to help him up again. They moved from the room, hands clasped and Hermione knew; He had been broken. He had seen too much.
“I didn’t want to be The Boy Who Lived anymore.” He admitted softly.
She swallowed hard.
“….Hope.” Was all she could reply.
no subject