The matrons always kept a candle burning in the window of the Hospital Wing. It was a tradition going back centuries right back to the days when witches and wizards would have to flee muggle mobs on their broomsticks, often in the middle of the night. The sight of a magical candle when you were out in the wilds, frightened of every shepherd, was a wonderful thing.
The Hogwarts candle smelled of home to whoever was nearby when it was burning. For Lily, that meant rice pudding. It was always from a tin, swiftly heated over a stove, in the moments when her mother wasn't out fund-raising for local orphans or organizing charity bake-sales,
Lily knelt down and touched the ice at her feet. It started to hiss. Vapour rose from it like a departing soul. The rainbow-patterns on the ice began to swirl and surge, and finally to crack. With a deep, agonized creaking, the ice at her feet formed itself into a staircase, leading down into the depths of the Viceberg.
The icy steps must have been bewitched with a Gripping Charm, because she didnt slip or stumble. She carried herself, with that graceful pure-blood strut, down two steps, and then stopped. Snape, who was sliding in and out of consciousness now, began to imagine all the horrible things that could have stopped her. Perhap
Severus stared at the door to the muggle-baiting cells. Flashes of the previous scene kept coming back to him things that had seemed innocent enough at the time, but were now heart-stopping spectacles of horror. It was like waking up with a hang-over and remembering random, disconnected images from the night before they seemed so unreal, so far-away, and yet each one slapped him in the face like cold water. Like cold water full of razor blades.
It had been Lily.
Shed been put under the Cruciatus Curse.
Malfoy had been cradling her in his arms.
She was going to die tonight.
Severus felt as though he was on an escalator
Severus stared at the panting, silver-haired girl whod just stolen his wand. It was obviously and yet unrecognizably Narcissa. It was the same shimmering ice-sculpture of a school-girl who sneered and teased and bribed her way around the Slytherin Common-room, but she had a look of concentrated energy about her, like a coiled spring. Her hair was wild and tangled; her eyes usually so grey and dead-looking were fierce and alert. There was no more languorous, purring confidence: this was the kind of confidence you got from having three wands in your hand, and remembering a million devastating jinxes that you co
I've just realised it's been over a year since my last journal entry, and that was such a gloomy one! I might aim for more than one journal entry a year from now on, but we'll see how we go.
Anyway, I'm in a much better mood today. This is due in part to my having treated myself to a graphics tablet!!
It came yesterday and I was so excited! It works really well, however there is one (fairly large) drawback. I don't have any graphics software. Even downloading a free program is not an option at the moment, as I don't have internet access at home.
But I wasn't going to let that stop me. I spent last night playing about with it in Paint. Th
I haven't dyed my hair for a few months. I should make an effort to do it more often because on those rare occasions when I can see my roots, I'm always amazed and saddened by how much grey is visible.
The majority of my head (what I can see from the front, at any rate) is salt-and-pepper with grey now. However, I have one temple - my left one - which is nearly completely white. I find it strange that it is just this side which seems to be extra stressed. I am right-handed so I suppose it makes sense that the left side of my head would be worked more. My job uses science and creativity in roughly equal portions, though I do find the art sid