left-for-yesterday

For some time now, I’ve been thinking about what I want from love.     It seems increasingly harder to make any sort of list - mental or     otherwise - of what I want in "a man".          I’m only thinking in a lunar fashion. Women     represent beauty, and soul, an an unceasing devotion to proving:          Anything.          It doesn’t matter what.     Equalization of gender roles;     Personal wealth to themselves or the outside world;     To be ruthless,          and to be lovely,     and to exist between these extremes in a place most readily described as ... ‘home.’ The ubiquitous ‘

Title: [Oneshot] A Redrawing of Lines Parings: Possible D+H. Depends on how you read it. Warnings: HBP spoilers, angst. Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all things such related are copyright J.K. Rowling. I own nothing, am making no profit, and mean no harm by spinning my amusing little tales. Some dialogue taken from the American version of "The Half Blood Prince". Author's Note: Fuck. I have no idea where this came from. I was re-reading the end of HBP and it just kind of ... happened.  What follows is inspired by my thoughts on the whole fiasco. Scenes from the chapter, "The Flight of the Prince," and those surrounding it, told from Draco'

Sometimes I have conversations with myself. As a writer - or, perhaps, as a disillusioned young woman - it is easier for me to personify parts of myself in the characters I create. Through internal conversations with these characters, I set myself at ease. Occasionally, I am made aware of personal truths within myself that I have repressed within me; locked within me, rather. And when they are made clear to me, I start in surprise at my own revelations. Is it truly the revelation of myself? Or is it Trace's, Brent's, or Deirdre's? Surely, those that I've created must exist somewhere outside my subconscious mind. What an interesting thought

Chapter Four "We are young, and we don't care Your dreams and your hopeless hair We never wanted it to be this way For all our lives ... Do you care at all?" - Give 'Em Hell, Kid, My Chemical Romance xXxXxXxXx Harry rubbed tiredly at his eyes as he made his way down the hall. After hours of restless tossing and turning, he finally admitted defeat and just dragged himself up to get dressed. He had to face the day sooner or later. He had been plagued all night with fears over what kind of havoc Malfoy would wreak on his already over-complicated life now that he knew. This wasn't just a secret - this was the secret. Not even Ron and H

Chapter Three "Desperation, Devastation All I truly know Is Isolation, Self Damnation All life that I'd own was shed and worthless now." - "Rabbits are Roadkill on Route 37," AFI xXxXxXxXx Not to Harry's surprise, Hermione popped her brown, bushy head into the room. She struck him with a questioning, almost queasy, glance. "Could I talk to you, Harry?" Still lying lethargically on his bed, he nodded and waved her in absently. Closing the door behind her, she entered and cautiously made her way over to his bed. After a moment of hesitation, she seated herself on the edge and looked at him expectantly. Sighing almost inaudibly, he s