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A Place to Share, Let's see your stories!
fawkes28
post Mar 21 2008, 10:20 AM
Post #1
Organizing the Halo Rebellion


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This thread is a place where you can share your writing. We hope that we can inspire each other to become better writers. However, we do have some rules that we ask that you follow.

#1. Our word limit in this thread is 1000 words. If your story goes over this amount, then we ask that you choose which part you would like to share.

#2. This thread is only for the sharing of stories not for commenting. If you have a comment, we ask that you privately PM the member or leave a note in his/her comments.

#3. You may leave a link to your writing as long as the material falls within our PG-13 guidelines.

#4. Only make ONE post at a time. Double posts are not allowed on the lounge unless 24 hours has passed.


This post has been edited by fawkes28: Mar 23 2008, 08:45 AM


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The Quest Books

We will NOT be swayed by a halo draggin', eye batting Phoenix!!! ~DMD
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ktmac
post Apr 29 2008, 06:08 PM
Post #11
Quality Quidditch Supplies Test-Flyer


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Here is the remainder of the scene I posted awhile back. If you are intersted in readng the previous post - it is post number four on this thread.

“Well, honey, it means that me, you and Gabe are going to move out for awhile. I found us this really nice apartment, with cool furniture and a swimming pool. Summer’s just around the corner and I know how much you love to swim.” Carmen heard her own voice and knew it sounded falsely chipper. She had always been lousy at hiding her emotions. Somewhere in the middle of her speech, Logan had started to shake his head in denial. Carmen feared he might stick his fingers in his ears and start chanting, “Nananana, I can’t hear you! Nananana, I can’t hear you!” like he sometimes did to Gabe whenever his big brother told him something he didn’t want to hear, like the ending of a book Logan was reading.
“I don’t care about a pool. I want to live at home with you and Dad and Trooper!” Logan said, his voice high, his face panicky.
“Too bad twerp,” Gabe snapped. “Mom and Dad are getting divorced.”
“Gabe! Do not call your brother names!”
“Well, it’s true, isn’t it? That’s what happens when a mom and a dad separate. First they say they need time apart, and then they get divorced. And then they call each other names and fight over who gets custody!”
Gabe’s outburst wasn’t helping Logan’s panicked expression at all. She watched as his bottom lip began trembling and pools of tears gathered in his blue eyes, the glossy sheen making them look like a raging sea storm. “Mom,” Logan pleaded. “You and Dad can’t get divorced. Noah’s parents are divorced and he only gets to see his dad once a month!” He said this while three plump tears trickled down his little boy cheeks. The Piedmont’s were their neighbors, who were currently dragging their four children, two the ages of both of her sons, through a nasty custody battle. It broke her heart. She felt her composure chipping away with every tear that fell from his eyes. Gabe sat seething, his arms firmly crossed in front of him, forming some kind of impenetrable wall containing his anger.
“Honey, nobody said anything about a divorce. Your dad and I just need some time apart. Some time to think.”
“But why can’t I live at home with Dad?”
Perhaps this was a fair question, but it still hurt. Maybe she was being selfish, but her children would be living with her. She had quite enough to suffer. Adding an empty apartment to the mix was not going to happen. Plus, she would never leave her children like her father had left her. Let Ben suffer the loss of his children. She would not. “Logan, you’ll be able to see him on the weekends.”
“But what about Trooper? Can he live with us too?”
Carmen began to shake her head, hating to explain that she couldn’t find an affordable apartment that accepted dogs, but Gabe’s voice interrupted her thoughts.
“Sure sounds like a divorce to me,” he mumbled.
“But Trooper belongs to me! You and Dad gave him to me! I need to live with him or else he might get scared!”
“Logan, Trooper can’t live with us. But you’ll see him every weekend, and you can still take him walking after school. I promise.” She would make sure to keep that promise. Logan was old enough now that he could ride his bike home after school to take Trooper to the park. She could pick him up on her way home from work. Even if that meant frequent encounters with Ben, she’d do it. She’d do anything to erase the lost look on her son’s face.
“And Gabe quit saying that. We’re not getting a divorce.” Weren’t they? Carmen couldn’t imagine reconciling with Ben, not after what he did. The future spanned out before them desolate and lonely, their situation hopeless. Would they end up another sad statistic? Is that what would happen? Carmen’s world spun around her. Never in her life had divorce ever been a possibility. Sure, Ben and she had gone through hard times over the past year, but divorce simply had never before been an option. But now? Ben committed adultery. How could she ever get past that? How would her children ever understand?
“Look. Dad did something that really hurt mom. And I need time to heal.” Carmen spoke to Logan now, staring deep into his teary, cobalt blue eyes, willing him to understand.
“So when you’re all healed, we can move back home?” He sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his arm.
Carmen didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to make any promises that she couldn’t keep. “I don’t know honey,” she answered, reaching across the table to smooth down his bangs, which always stuck up in different directions due to an array of pesky colics. “But I do know that me and your father love you very much. And whatever happens, that won’t ever change.”
Logan stared forlornly down into his lap, tears running off the tip of his tanned nose and onto the red mesh material of his shorts. She looked over at Gabe, longing to reach out and touch him, soothe him. But she knew by his posture that an embrace would not be welcomed. Her chest felt like it was caving in when she saw that he, too, had tears in eyes. “Gabriel.” It was his given name, the one she used only on special occasions, usually in the early morning hours when the sun hid lazily beneath the horizon and Gabe hovered somewhere between sleep and consciousness. She’d coo the name into his ear, smoothing back the thick tresses of coffee brown hair sticking to his damp forehead. It was the name she used when she wanted to express just how much she loved him. It worked. He looked at her. One glimpse into his face and Carmen could sense the fear that nestled just beneath his hard stare. Her voice faltered as she stumbled over a sob bubbling from her throat. “Honey, I love you so much. I want you to know that.”


This post has been edited by ktmac: Apr 29 2008, 06:09 PM


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"The only malady Severus is guilty of subjecting me to was a rather uncomfortable slug situation that your friend Ron must be far too familiar with." ~Albus Dumbledore~

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Glow
post May 3 2008, 11:54 PM
Post #12
Getting Fitted for New Dress Robes


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from "A Brief Acquaintance"

(the narrator is Remus Lupin, looking back to his Fifth Year friendship with Severus Snape)

* * * * *

I hated Potions. Most of us just plugged along and brewed our potions and never expected more than E's or A's on anything. We didn't have the raw talent of Lily Evans or the alchemical genius of Severus Snape. We just endured.

My usual partner for the class was Peter Pettigrew. James Potter partnered with Sirius Black, of course, and Lily partnered with Sarah Dawlish. It was a perfect arrangement. Actually, I would rather have partnered with James than with Peter. James fooled around a lot in class and kept us all laughing, but he was a great student all the same. My private theory was that the humour was to show off to the guys but the good marks were to show off to Lily. Wormtail, on the other hand, was a bit unpredictable. Some days he was brilliant, but most days, he struggled to keep up even with me.

Lily didn't always buy James’ antics, though. Lily was as perceptive as she was talented as a witch, and she could see through James' veneer of cockiness on Day One. That was the funniest part of the whole thing, those days when she really put him down.

In the meantime, however, we also shared our Potions class with the Slytherins, something which always made me nervous. I was sure that no one but my closest friends knew about my...condition, and it would have been an unmitigated disaster should anyone in Slytherin find out. The teachers all knew about me—they had to—but they always kept my confidence, including Professor Slughorn. Naturally, he never invited me to his little Slug Club parties. Those were reserved for the brave and the beautiful. I was neither.

The worst part of my condition as a werewolf is the secrecy I must exercise every day. As a boy, I always wished I could just tell the world and have the world embrace me and offer me succor and good wishes. But that was impossible, naturally. My three best friends knew of my situation, even learned how to become Animagi so they could be with me on my worst days when I was so sick and pained and in danger of being discovered. As far as I knew, no one else amongst the students knew what I was.

And then Peter got sick one spring morning. The previous night he had been slightly pale and green, and before bedtime the poor bloke was retching in the bathroom. His temperature soared to 103º and he had to be rushed to the Hospital Wing to recover. Prongs, Padfoot and I promised to visit him after lessons the next day, but that still left me in a bit of a quandary for Potions that day.

From the very start, Severus Snape was someone who preferred to work alone, especially in Potions. He was the only one who outdid Lily in the subject, the only one who outdid Prongs in just about every other subject. Severus was a force of nature—an amazing mind, a sharp wit, an aura of danger about him. Naturally, he and James hated each other from our First Year, though I only learned why some time later. Since then, James had told us over and over that Severus was a dark wizard, someone to be rejected and scorned and harassed, for the sake of the greater good. Personally, I think it had to do with Severus’ hair. But that’s only a private thought.

Severus was not what anyone could call handsome, nor even close. Then again, neither was I, but that’s another matter. He was tall, lanky, angular, gawky, never quite grounded in his body. Then there was the hair, the long, oily hair that looked…well…it was just sad. A lot of people used to laugh at Severus, shoot cruel jokes about oil slicks and such, all of which he would brush off like so much dross. At least I thought that’s what he did.

Nothing seemed to phase Severus, emotionally or intellectually. I thought he had the inner strength of ten wizards. I was always secretly impressed by his reserve, his ability to remain a tough stoic in the face of scores of immature wizards and witches, all of whom looked a hundred times better yet didn’t possess a fraction of the academic gravitas that he held within his mind and soul.

When I walked into the Dungeons for Potions that afternoon after lunch, I sensed trouble. With the absence of Peter, I had no idea with whom Professor Slughorn would partner me—I had a sense of dread that he would put me with Severus, the very last thing I wanted. Sure, I wanted to reap the benefits of Severus’ vast knowledge of the subject and lean on him in order to boost my own performance. On the other hand, I had to contend with the presence of James and Sirius, who I knew would give me no end of hell for such a partnership, especially if I dared to speak well of Severus in the least. That would have been the Unforgivable Sin.

“Ah,” Slughorn said as he set us to our task, “I see that we are short one Gryffindor this morning, and one Slytherin! Very well, very well, not to worry. Uh, Mr. Lupin there, I see your partner is indisposed today, oh yes, and Mr. Snape is equally without a partner…”

James came to the rescue. Well, he tried. “Professor, sir, Remus can work with me and Sirius today. Can we have a group of three?”

“Thank you, thank you, Mr. Potter, but no. This project today is strictly for pairs, not trios. Mr. Lupin, I’d like you to gather your things and move over to Mr. Snape’s work station.”

Click here for the rest of the story...


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Art Addict
post May 10 2008, 02:55 PM
Post #13
Perusing the Magical Menagerie


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Here's a preview of a story I just started. smile.gif I don't usual share my writings so this is like a one time thing for me!!

No name for the time being, but it's just saved under "Bluespell". This is the beginning:

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I stood in front of my uncles grave. My eyes threatening tears, but the threat was empty. Crying is a sign of weakness, and to let my guard down at this crucial stage especially would have been close to suicidal. I just stood there with my brother Felix as he put his hand upon my shoulder and smiled shyly, we where both putting on a brave face and we both knew it. But neither could admit to such a thing. Even after everyone who came to mourn my uncle had gone we stayed, we stood and stared and I eventually sat down on the grass, in the black dress my mother made especially. The silk would be soaked, but it wouldn't matter, I wouldn't have a pretty dress I'll never wear again – it didn't matter.

I sat there in front of the grave reading the words engraved, a load of rubbish about him being a loyal brother and loving uncle, which of course he was – but none of it was personal. Nothing about how much of a hero he was, or how he gave his life for a better future. The press portrayed him as a traitor and a murderer, and his gravestone said he was an average man. He will one day be appreciated – I will make sure of it. Even if I have to die to make it known, I will make sure his hard work and efforts are known. I was lost in my thoughts for hours, I was barely aware that the sun was setting until I was brought back to earth by two words uttered by my brother. “Freya, run.”

Being brought up by my uncle had taught me not to pause, or even think about these words. If a fellow member said run it was run first think later. I got up and ran as fast as I could in heals and a dress. Under normal circumstances I would have come prepared but I didn't think there would be a raid at my uncles funeral. I ran as my heart raced faster and faster, my back ached, a stitch was growing in my side but I couldn't stop. I couldn't. It was growing dark and hard to see, after running for half a mile at least I kicked my heals and continued, my feet would be sore and my mother would yell. But if me and Felix didn't run – then that would seem like a minor convenience, which of course it was compared to current events.

We ran for miles, if I had to estimate I would have said four but it would be hard to tell in the dark, when me and Felix where out of any immediate danger we found a near by barn to take shelter in. In the morning we would head for the headquarters but it would be too dangerous to start now, if the masters where shown the whereabouts of the headquarters then that would be the end of years, decades of hard work. All the men and women who'd given up there lives would have died in vein. In the morning we would have to face an irate farmer. But that wouldn't matter, a little hostility never killed anyone – well not anyone who lived to tell the tale at least.


This post has been edited by Art Addict: May 10 2008, 02:57 PM


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I'm gone for two hours and you send a search team?
I'd like to say I'm flattered but I think it's just obscene.
And I'm not just referring, to the shirts that are disturbing.

James Potter - Obsessive Lily Disorder
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HPFanNZ
post Jun 10 2008, 09:30 PM
Post #14
Professional Diagon Alley Window Shopper


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This is something I started working on yesterday and this is just the beginning. It's tentative title is The Miracle of Saint Alexandra.

Do enjoy:

Wood creaked and voices chanted a mournful tune, the echoes sounded off the stone walls of St. Peters as a bier was borne aloft by members of the Papal Guard. They wove their way down the nave, trying to steady the load upon their shoulders. The corpse of an elderly woman, dressed in the regalia of a Pope, her hair grey yet with tinges of its former dark red, lay upon the bier. Upon her wrists faintly shone red scars, barely covered by the white gloves on her cold hands.
“Papa Alexandria! Papa Alexandria!”
The crowds outside shouted amongst their tears, the doors into the basilica swung wide and the guard walked out slowly, behind them limped an old man dressed in a white alb, a purple and black stole about his neck. He wept copiously into his long beard and clutched a copy of the Roman Rite in his hands. It had been his greatest honour and privilege to have known the late Pope in their youth and it pained him to conduct the funeral mass for the entire world to see. She had wanted a private service but the Cardinal Secretary had overruled the decision.
“Your Eminence, let us begin. The crowds won’t wait any longer.”
A young guardsman whispered in the cardinal’s ear and his shoulders slumped. He opened the book and began speaking.

200 years later:

“The Church of St. Alexandria, thought lost to the world since the Great War of 2134, but it is said to be in Italy somewhere, Sicily to be precise and we will find it!”
Professor Antonia Ziferelli, Head of the Sacred Archaeology department at Georgetown University, shouted excitedly and jabbed at a page in a book, an engraving of a tiny village church, built of red sandstone and covered with ivy,
“The legend states that St. Alexandria was not only the first female pope, but also the first American one. Miracles and wonders followed in her wake, she was a visionary, stigmatic and once a student of our university. An ecclesial pioneer by all accounts!”
The professor pointed to a portrait of the saint as a young woman which hung behind her desk. She was dressed as the pope, red hair falling to below her shoulders, a hand raised in blessing and a smile playing about her lips. Saint Alexandria looked down upon whoever gazed upon her, a halo blazing about her head and the painted wounds on her wrists, head, side and feet as fresh as though they were painted yesterday.
“That’s all well and good, Antonia. But the University won’t fund such a trip; we have no idea if her relics still exist. The Church lost a lot of documentation due to the war and most of the lists of the papal succession were amongst them. What they do have is incomplete, even the Roman Martyrolgy doesn’t make mention of a Pope Saint Alexandria and that still remains woefully unfinished. No one in Rome, New York or Washington knows where she is.”
Doctor Ellbrig, Dean of the school of arts and humanities at Georgetown, shook his head in exasperation at the young professor’s plans.
“But… but wouldn’t there be records of her here as well?”
“What we have is too little and undecipherable. Most of our records in regards to Alexandria were carted off to the Vatican and we never got them back. All we have now is that portrait and the little shrine in our chapel.”
Antonia had often prayed in front of that shrine, a silver pendant lay within the simple gold casket upon the altar. It was all that was left of the saint since her corpse was spirited out of Rome before war overtook the Eternal City. No one had ever ventured forth to find the relics in 130 years but Antonia was determined to find them, for she had felt a bond of kinship with the saint and often dreamed of her. It seemed as though Alexandria wanted to be found and returned to her rightful resting place.
She stood up from her seat, quivering with self righteous rage,
“Is this saint to be relegated to the same place where now languishes the fictional Pope Joan? I can and will prove she exists, but I need the money to do so.”
The good doctor grimaced,
“Rome won’t like you snooping around, but I can’t stop you. The grants committee will meet in a few days, I expect you with a completed application and business case by then.”
He stood up and walked to the door. Doctor Ellbrig looked over his shoulder and sighed before he stepped out of Antonia’s office,

3 days later, Antonia stood in front of the Georgetown grants committee, a folder in her left hand and a book in the other. Several priests and some of the faculty stared at her from across the table, for Georgetown had been a Jesuit founded college and was still watched over by Rome.
“I’m sure you know why I’m here today, the cultus of Saint Alexandria has been going strong for these past two centuries and I wish to prove, through study of her history and sites relating to the saint, her existence to the world and to Rome itself. I’m suspicious as to why Rome would hide one of its more important pontiffs and I wish to blow the dust off such a mystery.”
One of the priests raised her hand,
“Wouldn’t it be prudent to leave such a task to the Congregation for the Causes of Saints? I mean, my superiors would not take kindly to a laywoman taking such an interest in someone who may have been improperly elected to the papacy and whose miracles remain as yet unproven.”
Antonia turned to the woman priest,
“The saint was one of the first of our sex to be ordained; the cause for her canonisation was advanced by the President herself. Yet Rome deigns to remove her from Church history without turning a hair!”
She opened her book to the relevant page and thumped it upon the desk,
“This is the church where she is buried, it is said that the whole building is alive. Statues, carvings, paintings and stained glass windows all talk and move because of the holiness of that place and the relics within. Doesn’t Rome want her back at St. Peters where she belongs?”


--------------------

Thanks to Tegalto for the set.
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MagicDucks
post Jun 26 2008, 10:45 AM
Post #15
Newest Housekeeper at The Leaky Cauldron


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This is part of the first chapter of my fan fic about Albus Severus Potter. The rest of it can be found Here I haven't posted all of it on that site yet, but I try and update regularly.

I hope this is only about 1000 words. I didn't count them, so I'm not sure.

Albus Potter and the Secrets Within

Chapter 1: On the Hogwarts Express

Albus waved to his parents and little sister, Lily, until he could no longer see them. "Well, we'd better go find a compartment," he said to his cousin, Rose, who was standing next to him. Rose nodded her head and they started walking down the train corridor. It was a bit hard to walk on a moving train and Albus kept stumbling. The train rounded a corner and he fell into a rather mean looking older student.

“Watch where you're going, midget,” the boy said as Albus and Rose quickly ran away from him.

"Better find a compartment quick", Albus said. He continued to walk along the corridor, looking into each compartment as he passed. He spotted a lot of his other cousins, but didn't really want to interrupt whatever they were doing with their friends. Albus also saw a few people who looked vaguely familiar, including the Jordan-Bell twins. Scorpius Malfoy was sitting in one of the compartments with a few other boys, but Albus definitely did not want to sit with them.

Albus peeked into the next compartment and saw that there was a rather pale boy sitting on one of the seats. He seemed very small and his face was quite scarred. There was also an older girl, who looked to be about Victoire's age, sitting next to the boy. She looked vaguely familiar. Both of them had blue eyes and blond hair. They looked friendly enough. "How about this one?" he said to Rose.

Rose glanced into the compartment for a few seconds and replied, "Yeah, looks good to me." She opened the door and the two cousins walked in.

“Can we sit here?" Albus asked.

“Sure,” the boy responded as he gestured to the seat opposite him. “My name's Matt, Matt Eckerton.”

"I'm his sister, Amy. I'm a seventh year, Matt's just starting," the girl told him.

“Hi, I'm Albus Potter," Albus said, "And this is my cousin, Rose Weasley," he gestured to Rose. "We're both first years."

"Hi," Rose waved. Rose sat down on the seat across from Amy and Albus sat down across from Matt.

"That's where I know you two from! I knew I'd seen you somewhere. My best friend is your cousin, Victoire. I think I've seen you at her house before," Amy explained.

"Probably. I think I've seen you, too," Rose responded. Albus nodded his head in agreement.

Matt's eyes opened wide as he stared at Albus. “So, you're Harry Potter's son? You know, you do look a whole lot like him. You've got his eyes and everything.”

“Yeah, I know,” Albus said shortly, he often got sick of people telling him this.

“I bet you two hear loads of stories of the battle. My parents have told me some, but they don't know all the details, just the bits that are in books. You see, we're from Australia. We moved hear when I was about 8,” Matt looked nervously at his sister.

“Yeah, I know all about the battle. My parents didn't tell me the full story until I turned 11. Same with Rose, our parents told us at the same time. They didn't want to scare us, but thought we ought to know before we went to Hogwarts, since most people there will have heard all about it. But my parents don't talk about it much. Guess it brings back bad memories,” Albus told Matt before changing the subject. He really didn't enjoy people constantly asking him about his dad. “So, how'd you get all those scars?”

“I'm, um, er, very clumsy,” Matt glanced at Amy and started to stare absentmindedly out the window.

“Oh, that's ok. A friend of my parents' was very clumsy, kind of a problem since she was an Auror. But she was killed in the battle at Hogwarts. Along with her husband. My dad is their son, Teddy's, godfather, so we see a lot of him,” Albus told Matt.

Matt just continued staring out the window. Albus didn't know what to say, he hoped he hadn't said anything to bother Matt. “So, do you have any other siblings?” Albus asked.

Matt turned away from the window. “Nope, just me and Amy. I know you've got siblings. I've read about you and them in books. A brother James and a sister Lily, right? And I think you've got a little brother, right, Rose?”

Albus just looked at Matt. It was a bit strange having other people know all about you. He supposed this was what it was like for his father when he went to Hogwarts. “Yup, James is a second year and Lily's just 9, so she's not here yet.”

"Yeah, my brother, Hugo, is 9, too," Rose told him. Rose's family was mentioned in numerous books as well, although not nearly as many as Albus's.

At that moment, the compartment door opened and James walked in with two of their cousins, Ben and Cedric, and their friend Nathan. “How's it going, little bro?” James asked. “Still worrying about being in Slytherin?”

“James, shut up!” Albus responded, blushing a little.

“Oh, I see you've met someone, what's your name?” James asked Matt.

“Matt Eckerton.”

"Hi," the boys responded.

"Oh, and hi Amy," Ben added.

"Hi, Ben. How are you?" Amy asked.

"I'm good. So this is your brother?," Ben said. Ben was Victoire's brother, so he had seen Amy loads of times.

"Yeah, Matt's just starting his first year," Amy told him.

"Good luck with the sorting, then, Matt," Ben grinned at Matt.

“Ah, well, we best be off, the trolley's on it's way to our compartment, wouldn't want to miss that!” James said as he walked out of the compartment with his friends.

Matt stared at Albus. “You think you're going to be in Slytherin?”

“No,” Albus said, turning more crimson.

"So, what house do you want to be in?"

"Gryffindor, just like my parents," Albus told him, "And James and all my cousins are in Gryffindor, too. So were most of my aunts and uncles."

"I hope you get in, then," Matt said, "I'm hoping for Gryffindor, too. Amy's in Gryffindor."

"Hope you're there, too."

"I'm also hoping for Gryffindor," Rose announced, "Although Ravenclaw looks nice, too."

"Ravenclaw wouldn't be so bad," Matt agreed, "That's where all the smart kids go, right?"

"In essence, yeah," Amy told him.

The compartment door opened again. Another boy walked in, along with a scared looking girl. The boy was very tall, with straight dark brown hair and dark eyes. The girl was quite a bit shorter than the boy, with long, wavy, honey colored hair and light brown eyes.

“Can we sit in here?” the boy asked. “A bunch of Slytherins kicked us out of our compartment.”

“Sure,” Albus and Matt responded.

“Good. I'm John Brickston and this is Amanda Tagger. We're both first years,” the boy told Albus, Rose, Matt, and Amy.

“Hi. I'm Albus Potter, this is my cousin Rose Weasley, and that's Matt Eckerton, we're also first years,” Albus responded, "And she's Amy, Matt's sister." Albus pointed to Amy, who waved.

“Wow!” John exclaimed. “My dad said you'd be starting this year, Albus.” Amanda still hadn't said anything.

Albus just smiled a little and his cheeks turned redder yet.

"Well, I think I'll go find Victoire," Amy grabbed her bag and got up, "You going to be ok, Matt?"

"Yes, I'll be fine," Matt told her.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, you can go. See you later," Matt waved as his sister left the
compartment.

"And you're Rose Weasley?" John asked. Rose nodded. "I've heard of you, too," John continued. "Your family owns Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, right?"

"Well, it's really my Uncle George who owns it. He's Albus's uncle, too. But my dad works there a lot. My Uncle George opened it with my Uncle Fred after they left school. They're twins. But Uncle Fred died in the Battle at Hogwarts, so after that my dad helped Uncle George with it," Rose explained.

John grinned, "I love that place. So does my dad. He's always buying me stuff from there. Mum's not always happy about it since I'm always using the stuff to pull pranks on my little sisters."

Albus, Rose, and Matt laughed. "I've done that quite a bit, too," Albus commented. "But now that Lily's a bit older it's harder to pull pranks on her."

“Anything from the trolley?” A witch had appeared in the doorway with a trolley laden with delicious sweets.

“Definitely!” John shouted, as he jumped up from his seat and ran out into the corridor. Albus smiled. John reminded him of James. Albus, Rose, Matt, and Amanda followed John. All five returned with their arms full of food.

“So, what is all this stuff?” Amanda spoke for the first time since entering the compartment.

“Well, you have your cauldron cakes, pumpkin pasties, chocolate frogs, and Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans,” John explained, as he pointed to the various items. “Just be careful with the beans.”

“Why?” Amanda asked as she tried a greenish colored bean. “Ugh!” she exclaimed. “Bogey!” Amanda spat out the bean and it landed on John. Albus, Rose, and Matt broke out in fits of laughter.

“They mean every flavor!” Matt shouted. “So, you must be Muggle-born?”

“Yes,” Amanda answered. “My mum is a teacher and my dad's a doctor.”

“What's a doctor?” John asked.

“A muggle Healer,” Matt explained. “My mum's Muggle born, but she's a witch, and my dad's a wizard. He works at the Ministry, in the Department for the Control of Magical Creatures,” Matt told everyone. "And my mum doesn't work, but she's thinking of getting a job now that I've started school."

“Oh, my parents are a witch and wizard. My family's mostly all magical, except for a few Muggle aunts and uncles and cousins. My dad is a Healer and my mum stays at home with my younger sisters, I've got 3 of them. They're 9, 6, and 5. But before I was born she worked at the Ministry,” John explained. "How about your parents, Rose?"

"Well, like I said before, my dad works at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, but he's also an Auror, which is a Dark Wizard catcher. And my mum works at the Ministry. She's the one who started all the House-Elf rights stuff."

"Wow, your dad's an Auror, too? That's bloody brilliant!" John grinned.

“What do your parents do, Albus?” Amanda asked.

Albus was a little shocked at this question, since the whole magical world knew about his parents, but of course Amanda didn't. “Well, my dad's an Auror. And my mum's a sportswriter for the Daily Prophet.”

“Yeah, Albus's parents are famous!” John shouted. “Tell Amanda, won't you, Albus?” Albus suspected John secretly wanted to hear all about the Potters directly from him, even though he'd probably read all about them in books.


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HollyLime
post Jul 5 2008, 01:14 PM
Post #16
Perusing the Magical Menagerie


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This is the beginning of a story I just wrote. I have a link to the full text (in pdf) so if anyone is interested and wants to read the rest PM me and let me know.

It is intended to be a "bedtime" story for kids (girls most likely), app. ages 4-8. It is in the style of a fairy tale. I have no title, which if you read it all, you'll see I'm still working on how to "pitch" this to readers.

Once upon time there was a land far away called Faereve. In the land of Faereve there were many wonderful places, the most wonderful of which was the Royal Castle that rose high above all the other roves. Its tallest tower could glimpse the whole of the kingdom: all the noble manors, the cobbled streets, the merchant shops, the craft sellers, the peasant houses and off in the farthest horizon was the enchanted forest, where all kinds of magic, good, bad, and everything in between dwelled. Most people never traveled that far away from town, and that was just fine to the nice little family that lived in a tiny, neat cottage just at the edge of the tree line.
It was an odd little house surrounded by an odd little garden, but it was cared for with great pride. It had been there as long as anyone who cared to notice it could remember, so no one really minded just the same.
One day, the three faerie sisters were summoned to the castle on a very important mission. As they began the long journey from the enchanted woods to the castle, they noticed something was terribly wrong. The little house had sadly burned to the ground, and all the family had perished, save the youngest. A baby girl was crying softly when the faeries pulled her from the smoldering ashes.
"What is her name?" asked Mel, the eldest of the sisters.
"Iíve heard them call her Bella, though she is so beautiful, so Iím not sure if that is her name," said Milda, the middle sister.
"What should we do?" asked Malia, the youngest of the three. "We canít leave her here all alone."

PM me if you are at all interested in the rest and I'll send you the link.


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“Peter was not quite like the other boys; but he was afraid at last…. Next moment he was standing on the rock again, with that smile on his face and a drum beating within him. It was saying, ‘To die will be an awfully big adventure.’” Peter and Wendy. James Barrie.
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justblue73
post Jul 16 2008, 02:11 PM
Post #17
Hiding in the Iron Maiden at Borgin and Burkes


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I don't really write stories, although I would like to as soon as I find the time. However, I do write shorter pieces about how other's stories change my life. I am sure we all find Jo's writing inspiring. So, here's a little piece I wrote about the end of Harry Potter and the approaching end of the Twilight saga. We spend so much time getting to know the characters in the stories that when they ended, I literally felt depressed - like my best friend moved away and there was no way I could call or write. For a short time forgetting that I could relive the moments whenever I wanted, all I needed to do was pick up the book. So without further ado, The Void...

The Void


First, there was Harry.

Words cannot express the emptiness I feel inside. A colossal void lives within my heart and turns my stomach into knots.

Words cannot express the ache in my sides or measure the number of tears that I cried because I feared I would never find another who would rekindle the flame in my soul or inspire me to believe in happily ever after.

Words cannot express the loneliness I feel now that my dear friend is gone. I spent countless hours getting to know him, completely immersing myself into his life. He graciously embraced me with open arms and invited me to share, even in his most intimate moments.

In return, and without hesitation, I gave him my unconditional love. But, he still decided to leave me – alone and heartbroken.

Words cannot express the pain, yet, it was the words that caused me to feel this way.

It is the spirited writing of an author who excited me with her prose and forced me to fall in love with her characters. But then, leaves me, abandoned, longing for more, when she decides that the story is complete and there is nothing left to say.

I knew he was never mine to own. I knew it would end and I knew it would end quickly. In the beginning, she told me it would only be for a short time but it did not change my enthusiasm. And it doesn’t change the betrayal I feel, for being left alone, again, trying to fill the void.

And then, there was Edward.

And while he has yet to rupture the small portion of my heart that I managed to repair, I know our time together is limited. Once again, I count the days knowing that soon he will be gone from me forever, tearing my heart into pieces.

The pain is still fresh. I can smell the salt form my tears but my fervor does not wane. I remain committed to my love until our very last moment together.


I'd love to know what you think. PM me.


--------------------
Maybe life is a dream and we wake up when we die?
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Sirius_isn't...
post Aug 24 2008, 09:23 PM
Post #18
Being Eaten by the Pea Soup


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This is a bit of chapter one of a new story I'm writing which is just a bit of HP fanfiction.

It's called:
Harry Potter and the Resurrected Army

It's a bit under 600 words I believe... Enjoy... and send me PM's of what you think PLEASE!!!


Chapter 1

The Godric Retreat

Bring! Bring! ... Bring! Bring!

Harry Potter moaned and stretched his right arm across his body to silence his very loud alarm clock. He slowly opened his eyes and rubbed the crust out of their corners. Hedgitte, his snowy-white owl gave a soft hoot in acknowledgement of his master’s awakening.

He pulled his glasses off of his side table and thrust them on his face. Harry slowly rolled out of his soft bed, which, strangely enough still had some feathers from the hippogryph Buckbeak stuffed in the folds of the sheets. His feet felt heavy as cinderblocks, then again it WAS 5:30 in the morning. A Monday morning. The first day of his new job.

Harry and Ron Weasley had been able to procure a shop next to Weasley’s Wizard Weazes. It would be called the Potter & Weasley Emporium: Defensive Magic Objects and Defensive Magic Lessons. They had been able to get a registration certificate so that underage witches and wizards would be able to use magic under Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s (mostly just Harry and Hermione’s) instruction inside the shop. They also were told by the Ministry of Magic that you were allowed to make your shop as large as you want as long as it did not interfere with any other shops.

They had made the PWE to be 3 floors, two above ground, and one below. The middle floor would be the shop itself where you could buy magical items that the PWE sold. The top floor would be for the three of them (Harry, Ron, and Hermione) to give magic lessons for anywhere from 2 sickles to 4 galleons a lesson, depending on the lessons’ content. And the bottom floor would be for employee housing. Most of the employees there were former DA members and Hogwarts students in Harry’s year who were only 2 years out of Hogwarts with no place to stay.

Harry’s home at #12 Grimmauld Place had also become a haven for Hogwarts students from in and around Harry’s year. Harry was living there (obviously) with his new wife Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley and his wife Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Hannah Abbot his girlfriend, Luna Lovegood, and her boyfriend Xander Vernificus. The house was given the nickname Godric’s Retreat. So as you can imagine, the place was pretty packed.

But, back to Harry…

He walked slowly down the steps and toward the kitchen. He found that Neville to be the only one awake. He was sitting on one end of the kitchen attempting to master the ability of flipping flapjacks on the other end of the room. He was muttering various things under his breathe, most of which was swearing the fact that he was not fully mastering this skill.

“Need some help, Neville?” asked Harry as he entered the room. Neville spun around at an in-humanly possible speed, with a little jump. His face was as red as Gryffindor rubies. The pan of pancakes whooshed to the ground like a bullet from a gun.

Wingardrium Leviosa!” Harry said hastily, doing the swishing and flicking motion faster than he had ever done before. He slowly raised pan and pancake back up onto the stove.

“I’m sorry, Harry! I… I… just lost control.” Said Neville sadly, looking at his feet.

1

“That’s alright Neville, I shouldn’t have surprised you like that. Smells good! Mind if I help?” said Harry, felling quite bad for Neville at the moment, and was trying to redeem himself.



“No, thanks! I think I got it; I was just rotating my wand the wrong way! Work’ll be good today, huh? First day!” replied Neville cheerfully.
Yeah… I think it will! Harry thought to himself._______________________________________*_____________________________________



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:hogwarts:
Sirius is NOT dead!
It's just a trick of the light!
:hogwarts:
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EducationalDecre...
post Oct 21 2008, 02:39 PM
Post #19
Kibble Boy/Girl at the Magical Menagerie


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Location: Breeding an illegal dragon




QUOTE(Tarí.Vardamir @ Apr 29 2008, 01:25 PM) *
[b]Revolution Begins
[/b]

My fic is about a girl named Helga Thatch who is in Tom Riddle's year (7th). He is Head Boy and feared by many (as we know extremely well ^^). She isn't really noticed in the Slytherin House, she's more like a person who tends to ignore others and stay in her own privat world. However, according to Slughorn Helga is one of the best Ancient Runes sutend Hogwarts has ever seen in many many years! Although that does not attract Riddle's attention right away in its dues time he begins to be interested by her in a really evil way.

Please read and review! Tell me what you think.
Thanks!

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/4154000/1/Revolution_Begins

towel.gif


I quite liked it, it had some good ideas and use of language. However I think you need to vary your punctuation more. I am saying this only as constructive criticism, not to be nasty. Semi colons in the place of overused commas etc.


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Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titilandus
Nitwit Blubber Oddment Tweak
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EducationalDecre...
post Nov 22 2008, 05:43 AM
Post #20
Kibble Boy/Girl at the Magical Menagerie


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Location: Breeding an illegal dragon




My start at a story. About a mad and adventurous family called the Tregullans who go to Cornwall for their Summer holidays. I'll only post a little of it.

The car was all packed, and the usual scramble for their favourite seats began. Evie, who got car sick, could never go at the back; Rose, 3 years her senior with an irrational phobia of sick, would never sit next to her. Tyler had to go at the very back to ‘look after Napoleon.’ Napoleon knew he always went in the boot, and he didn’t mind. Mrs. Tregullan often remarked that he was ‘the easiest of her children.’ “No, he’s not!” Bonnie would protest at once. “I never poo in the lounge, and I ate all your leek flan. Even Napoleon didn’t like it!” Napoleon ate everything else though. Newspapers, fluff under the back seat, and the sneakers Evie had saved up all her pocket money for. Needless to say, Evie was not in the best of tempers.
Mrs. Tregullan got in the drivers door. Mr. Tregullan handed her the map before plugging himself firmly into his ‘Italian Verbs for Beginners’ CD. Rose, much to her disgust, was crammed into the back with Tyler, Napoleon, and fat one-eyed Nelson in his cat carrier. Evie, dosed up with Joyrides, sat next to the window clutching a beanie baby in one hand and a water bottle in the other. Isabelle was crammed in the middle, curling her legs underneath the seat despite her not particularly considerable height, and Bonnie in her car seat, sat the other side, gazing out of the window. It was late July, but as was the norm, it was raining, water running in fat droplets down the windows and pattering on the roof box. Mrs. Tregullan unfolded the map, on which the route to ‘The Piggery’ was carefully marked in red, turned the key and slammed her foot onto the accelerator. Routinely, Isabelle placed an ‘Earlybirds’ tape in Bonnie’s walkman, pressed play, and took out a copy of ‘Twilight’ from her backpack. Evie closed her eyes; Rose began to file her nails; Tyler opened a large back of cat treats and split them evenly between Nelson and Napoleon. Mr. Tregullan began to snore, missing an important section on ’the future tense’ which he would have to repeat later.
Mrs. Tregullan drove on. Hours passed: she hummed away to ABBA on Radio 2; she received a phone call from Diana across the road - but hastily stowed her phone back in her handbag after seeing a white van she thought could have been a police car (it turned out to be an ice-cream van.) The roads gradually became more winding and flanked by hedges. The rain lessened, but the sky was still overcast and the trees dripped and swayed mournfully. Rose and Evie were both asleep, Tyler was trying to poke cat treats into Rose’s open mouth. He couldn’t feed them to Nelson anymore: Nelson had been dropped off at Chatmoore Cats Hotel about an hour previously, and Tyler had forgotten to repack the treats, engaged in loving goodbyes. No one else seemed particularly sorry to see Nelson go. Mr. Tregullan had been asleep and Mrs. Tregullan had not liked to wake him. Rose had sniffed and continued filing her nails. Evie had nodded, her lips clamped tightly together and her face a delicate shade of green. Isabelle had given him a quick stroke, and withdrawn her hand hastily as he hissed and spat. Bonnie said, “G’bye Nelsie, I’ll miss you!” but she too had kept her distance.

I've done quite abit more than this, but let me know what you think.


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Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titilandus
Nitwit Blubber Oddment Tweak
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