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Come back It was still dark outside, and there wasn't any noise which could disturb the silence of the cold morning. But despite this, there was someone who wasn't sleeping, someone who, in fact, hadn't slept at all in the whole night. A tall figure could be seen lying still on his wooden bed, his blue eyes wide open, dark rings under them. The boy sat up and messed up his red hair, frustrated, gazing out of the window. Shell Cottage had a beautiful, quiet landscape, which made him feel even guiltier, if that was possible. There had been many weeks already, and he still didn't know how to come back. He bit his lip and punched the pillow, feeling angrier at himself as the minutes passed. Memories of the last few days wandered in his mind like an old movie; the Snatchers, Bill's disappointed, but always supportive look, Fleur's quiet understanding His own words, full of rage, and Harry's expression when he left was just He had betrayed his best
You belong with me - Chap. 27And just like Christmas had come and gone, next year arrived and the first month went away so quickly that anyone noticed, and then another one, and then the next. While for the younger students April started as a quiet month, for the seventh and fifth years, the mere course of the time was stressing; each day that went by exams were closer, and the teachers reminded them about it with piles and piles of homework. But once again, Easter Holidays were coming, and with them, an excuse to get away from their worries.
"Seems like this year I'll be spending Easter at home," Lily commented looking at the parchment, puting her books in her rucksack and placing it on her shoulder, tottering a bit as she did so. Remus delicately took it, putting it on his back effortlessly.
"I'm going home too," he said, leaving next to her the classroom where they had met the Head Boy and Girl to arrange their last patrols before the holidays. "I'd stay but I think it'd be good for my mum to see me." He
You belong with me- Chap. 22 FIFTH YEAR
The redhead sighed, smiling triumphantly when she finally could closet he loaded trunk, which seemed to be about to explode. Arya hooted, irritated; she didn't like at all that Lily had locked her in a cage, deceiving her to go in there with some sweets. The owl had a temper, but she usually obeyed Lily, and her mother too, whom she seemed to adore. The girl stuck a finger among the bars, caressing the sof feathers, but Arya, offended, moved away to the other side of the cage.
"Whatever."Lily murmured puting the trunk on the floor and placing the bird on it. She casted he reyes over the room one last time to make sure she wasn't leaving anything behind, and her eyes stopped on the shiny badge resting on her bed. She took it and stared at it. Prefect. Actually, it wasn't odd that Dumbledore had chosen her, but she wasn't expecting it either; she didn't even remember that one of them would be chosen Prefect that year. Her parents had been really proud when s
You belong with me- Chap. 23The boy stifled a yawn, placing his head on his hand in a gesture of boredom. It was Friday, and he couldn't wait for the lesson to end: they had more important things to do. Besides, the topic was boring: the Silencing Charm was really easy, and it such a long explanation was definitely not neccessary. Why had Flitwick made a whole theoretical lesson out of it? A few instructions would have been enough.
James casted his eyes over the room: Remus and Peter listened attentively to the Professor, diligently writing down notes while Sirius sketched, with an excellent technique, some drawings in a piece of parchment. And a few desks ahead, there she was.
The thick, dark red hair fell gracefully on her shoulders, framing the delicate face. James ran his eyes over it, smirking at the slight frown, admiring the curved eyelashes that were now hiding her eyes, smiling with tenderness at her little nose, carefully outlining her pinkish mouth. He wondered what it would taste like, and if it would
You belong with me- Chap. 20"Sometimes I can't believe you're that stupid, Potter."Sam said with a little bit of compassion in her voice. James didn't even look up, concentrated on touching a knot that stood out on the wooden table.
"I know." He said, sighing. Sirius patted him comprehensively on the back.
"James, I've told you hundreds of times," said Remus, shaking his head. "You have to stop behaving like a bighead if you want Lily to notice you." Becca smiled at the lycanthrope and nodded.
"You should listen to your mates for a change, Potter. Moony here is right." She asid, using the nickname she had heard the Marauders give him. Lupin looked at her with a half smile; he knew she had said it mockingly, and Rebecca answered with a saintly smile, fluttering her eyelashes with fake innocence.
Everyone tried to cheer him up uselessly; James seemed really depressed, without a trace of the arrogance displayed just a few minutes ago.
"James, why don't you come with me for a walk around Hogsmeade?" Briann
You belong with me - Chap. 24"A ball?" Sam exclaimed, watching incredulously the Announcements board. Bree, standing next to her, nodded hapil, while Lily, who was still a bit sleepy, moved her friend aside and stood in front of the board, practically yelling:
"What?" But no, Sam hadn't read it wrong: in a ornated green caligraphy, it was announced that on Hallowe'en, instead of the traditional feast, they would be having a ball for the older students (The students who were less than fourteen read the sing- would have their party at the Common Rooms). But that wasn't the worst part. It was a costume party. Lily stared with hatred at the elegant card with golden rims.
"Has Dumbledore gona mental?" Asked Samantha, her eyes still fixed to the board. The redhead started ranting and raving about the Headmaster, dragging herself half-heartedly to one of the armchairs:
"Merlin, what was the need! There's been years since they last held a ball at Hogwarts. And as if it wasn't enough, instead of having
You belong with me - Chap. 25"I'm bored," Said Sirius, leaning against a wall next to the table. James ignored him; he was too busy watching Lily laugh with that tosser of Davis.
As soon as the boy had seen her enter to the Great Hall, she had taken his breath away. The only thing James could think about was to go and caress those bare shoulders; to hold her waist and kiss her passionately; to get lost into those huge, green eyes. But it had all went away the moment the Hufflepuff had take her hand and led her to the dance floor.
"We already lost him," said Peter, really happy in his Frankenstein costume. Honestly, he was the least terrifying monster anyone had ever seen. "Evans arrived more than half an hour ago and Prongs seems unable of taking his eyes off her."
"Come on, Prongs, we're supposed to behere to have fun," complained Sirius, patting his shoulder. "It'd be a waste that I just stay standing here when there are so many babes dying for a piece of this." He said, making a geture that included his whole b
You belong with me- Chap. 21 The girl looked down and couldn't help shuddering: she didn't like heights. That was exactly the reason she had chosen the Astronomy Tower; she knew that none of her friends would look for her there. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate their support and company, but she didn't want to talk about her father. It hurt too much, knowing that she was going to lose him and being unable of doing anything to help him. She closed her eyes, placing her cheek on the cold stone and letting out a lonely sob. She didn't know for how long she had been there, she had lost all sense of tiem; maybe an hour, two, three. Who cared? She carried on unperturbed when she heard the steps, and the door opening; she was too absorbed in her thoughts to let those noises seep through her consciousness. After a while the steps started again, but walking towards her, and this time the girl did notice them, though she didn't show any sign of doing so. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a figure standin
Interviews: Sirius Black1)What gender are you?
As you can see, I'm a dude. A really, really hot dude.
You know you want me, blondie.
2) What is your age?
3) Are you human?
Technically, I am a human, but I think I'm a lot closer to a demigod or something like that. (Dazzling smile)
>This is worst than I thought it was. The dude is a helpless bonehead
"That first kiss...it's the passionate one. It's the one filled by desire and attraction, and all of that, but the second kiss is rational. You got time to worry, and over analyze and most women...they prefer that first kiss, but I'm partial to the second one because it's about something more. You'll get that second kiss Joey and when you do it'll be great. It'll be real. It'll be meaningful."
-Nina Repeta as Bessie Potter in Dawson's Creek.
It was over, the war had been won. Ron couldn't quite believe the final battle had been won almost a fortnight ago. Voldemort had been defeated, forever gone from their midst. He had been conquered by Harry Potter, the boy who lived...twice. Ron couldn't stop the small chuckle that escaped his lips at that thought. Yes, Harry had forever banished the Dark Lord from their world and gained new levels of fame right with it but to Ron, he would always be Harry, his best friend since he was eleven years old when he met him on t
One-shot: Perks...Perks of the unofficial teacher
Ginny's concerned expression wasn't enough to hide the obvious satisfaction she felt at having won.
'Well, if you're sure you don't have anything broken, we'd better get going. Maybe you can come meet us later?'
'Sure,' said Ron, frowning in disapproval, as Harry and Ginny set off to Ottery St. Catchpole for ice-creams. He sighed and sat on the ground next to Hermione, examining her leg for the tenth time.
'You really don't know anyhing about Quidditch, do you?' he said softly.
'I know a lot about Quidditch, in fact,' Hermione replied, rubbing her leg and panting heavily.
'About playing Quidditch, I meant. Nor even about flying...'
'Ron, please. You don't need to rub it in that I'm not good at physical activity.'
'I'm not! I don't care, Hermione... Honestly, you're way better than me or anyone else at most things, so...'
He smiled at her.
'You think I'm angry because we didn't win?'
'Well, you did look quite angry when Ginny annou
Rain and Grief
Time Period: This fic is set a few days after the final battle in Deathly Hallows. I'm referring to the book, not the film.
A torrent of May rain drums a frenzied, erratic beat on the castle's roof. This sound, steadfast and reliable like a heartbeat, comforts Ron, a fact that he considers odd. He has never been fond of the rain. As a child it prevented him from playing in the Burrow's gardens with Ginny and the twins. It acted as a burden and a bother. And Ron's spirit, even obstinate and lively at a young age, was never pleased when something (or someone) impeded on his desires.
Now the bother obscures him in a cloak of warmth and prevents his thoughts from meandering in directions that they shouldn't. If they do, Ron will have to succumb to the storm. He'll have to recognize its true nature, its ferocity and frigid cold. If Ron allows his thoughts to wander into that territory, unbidden and unwanted, he'll have to feel the pain: the raw and gnawing grief that will make his
One-shot: 500 Days of Wedding500 Days of Wedding
The window of Ron's bedroom opened, revealing for a moment a full, orange moon, which was almost immediately obscured by the room's owner.
'Ron? What are you doing here?' Hermione exclaimed, sitting up to confirm that she was not dreaming and that her soon-to-be husband was indeed climbing in through the window.
'You're not asleep, good,' Ron said with a grin, finally stepping down and propping his broomstick against the wall.
'I couldn't. But you shouldn't be here, anyway. What do you mean by climbing through people's windows at the dead of the night?'
'All right, first of all, I'm not climbing through people's windows, only yours,' Ron replied, crossing to the bed. 'Second, I thought that if I Apparated, you might jinx the hell out of me.'
'I might,' conceded Hermione.
'And last but not least, I think you staying here is stupid. We've been living together for two years, and if it was just to be prepared for tomorrow, you could Apparate in a second
Fireplace - (24 days of Romione Drabble)I walk down the stairs in my pyjamas (that are already too short for me) and cast my eyes over the Common Room; it is empty. Silence reigns in the place, except for the soft crackling of the fire, and I quietly approach to the armchair where I left my rucksack. But when I get there, I see her. The Common Room isn't empty.
Her eyes are closed and her mouth slightly parted; she looks so peaceful. Her cute frown is relaxed now, and I smile when I see the books spread over the floor. She's fallen asleep while she studied. Her bushy mane of brown hair is sprawled across the sofa, the dancing flames from the fireplace make it look almost auburn. The fire has made her blush, too. She's so beautiful.
I get closer to her and take the book that rests on her chest, careful not to wake her. I can hear her soft breathing now. She smiles in dreams and I smile too. I could watch her forever. I wish I could. I wish she knew how I feel. I lean toward her and hesitate for a second, but then I kiss her o
You're Not A PoetYou’re not a poet because of strung words
Together on row upon row again
Of blank verse or perhaps liberal rhyme.
‘Slam’ all you want, other poets wonder;
Your ignorance of couplets a blunder?
Yes! I speak harshly, but it’s no gross crime,
To point with honesty failed verse of thine.
No real poet discards upper case words;
Lets prose crawl on paper like listless worms.
You seek to free verse of those stern letters,
Sever away bleak capital fetters,
But it doesn’t sing of great speech sublime,
Rather, it sneaks of writing in spare time.
Wait! before you throw me in the icy Rhine;
It’s hard to put verse together in rhyme,
To make our dull words sound great all the time,
Hear them ring out loud, like a clear clock’s chime,
Heralding a poet’s summer prime.
Yet the sacred muses weep at your crime;
Your pentameter mangled thick like slime,
The subject not gilded in raiment fine;
Your bold ink font, crystal waters divine
Tastes bitter to the ton
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More