Results, Lent, and Frankenstein

Last year I thought about giving up chocolate for lent, so I thought I’d better actually do it this year. I don’t think it’s going to be that hard, I’m just worried I’ll forget and accidentally eat something with chocolate in!

Today is A level results day. I’m fairly happy with my Maths results – I’ve definitely got an A in Maths overall, and I got what I expected in Statistics 2. The result I wasn’t happy about was my Computing retake – last summer I got a D in one paper but a high A in the other. There was some stuff in thr first paper that we hadn’t done, so it wasn’t surprising I didn’t do as well as in the other paper, but I got a copy of my paper back and found they’d under-marked it as well as the mark scheme being a load of rubbish! (E.g. The mark scheme said ‘cheap’ and I put ‘not expensive’ and didn’t get a mark for it!) This time round I was sure I had done better as we’d done about everything that was in the paper, but I got even less – an E! Im sure it must be higher than that – in the mock I got an A! Basically I have to pay £55 to get my paper remarked and get it back, which they only refund if a remark moves your overall mark up a grade! >=(

The one thing that was supposed to make today better and that I’ve been REALLY excited about all week was getting to book tickets to see Frankenstein at the National Theatre (with Benedict Cumberbatch in). Booking was supposed to open to the general public today, but when I checked the site last night it said ‘Frankenstein is now SOLD OUT for all dates except for Day Seats and the possibility of returns’. ='( (I was actually, literally nearly crying!) I was planning on going with [info]inclination_fic and our friend Anna, and so we’ve agreed to go to London really early in the morning during the Easter holidays and try and get day tickets! I haven’t told my parents we want to do that yet, but they’d better let me!

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Because I love them all…

Okay… So because I’ve spent quite a lot of time today stalking reading [info]atlinmerrick ‘s gorgeous Sherlock fanfiction, and then I found that [info]inclination_fic dedicated her latest fic to me [for (I quote) “being lovely, and betaing my work seemingly endlessly, without so much as a complaint.❤ Also because she loves Sherlock/John possibly more than me, and that’s rather impressive. ^__________^”  – which makes me feel all fluffy and warm inside!😄 ], I’m going to recommend some AWESOME fanfiction I’ve read recently!

Firstly, [info]inclination_fic ‘s We All Float On (R) which portrays a John who is just as messed up and falling apart as Sherlock is: He can no longer tell if Sherlock is dragging him in a downwards spiral, or whether he was already spiralling downwards and just brought Sherlock along for the ride. – this line sums up the whole theme of the story for me!

So, [info]atlinmerrick , where do I start?! Here is a list of all her Sherlock fic – I’ve read them all except The Catalyst and they are awesome – I can’t pick a favourite! Perhaps for a taster, because it’s only(!) 4 chapters, read Nail Me – which involves an ‘infinitely charming characteristic of Benedict Cumberbatch’  and a lot of nail varnish. Rated NC-17.

Another that I love is All That Glitters (NC-17) – absolutely hilarious, perfect Sherlock characterisation, awesome narrating, and all about how John and Sherlock got together. (DON’T ask Sherlock, whatever you do!) And after you’ve read that you’re going to want to read Skullduggery because, well… you’ll see… =D

AND, proving her awesomeness, atlinmerrick has shown that in the Sherlock fandom you really can write anything with ‘A fluffy little necrophilia fic’ And yes, it is actually fluffy! And hilarious! AND rated PG!

Also on the subject of AWESOME fics, I recommend [info]wordstringsThe Paradox Series which is completely awesome and also has accompanying icons here and here (along with some amusing Sherlock kinkmeme icons!) made by the absolutely fabulous [info]sinkandrise!😄

I am just loving the awesomeness of these people and their fic and the entire amazing Sherlock fandom.

/gushing-fangirlness

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A Belated Thanks – Harry Potter Fanfiction

The last piece of fanfiction I finished! Also ‘published’ last summer.

Title: A Belated Thanks
Characters/Pairings: Harry
Rating: 12+
Warnings: DH spoilers, character death
Genre: Family/Comfort
Length: 682

Summary: Harry realises, too late, how much Molly Weasley really did for him.

(Also posted elsewhere – see list of all my fanfiction)

Harry stood by the cold, iron gate for a moment, before lifting the latch and entering the churchyard. The sun had almost set and the gravestones threw strange shadows up all around him.

“Lumos.”

The light from the tip of his wand led his feet along the path the coffin had taken that afternoon, borne by Bill, Charlie, Percy, and George. Her death hadn’t been unexpected; she wasn’t as young as she used to be, and it had been a particularly cold winter. But nothing could have kept Molly Weasley inside the house. She still kept up her old routine: feed the chickens, collect the eggs, water the garden, chase away the occasional gnome from the wild roses…

Harry paused for a moment, reminiscing. He remembered helping Fred, George, and Ron de-gnome the garden the first time he had visited the Burrow. Mrs Weasley’s hugs as he got off the Hogwarts Express at the end of every eventful school year. Mrs Weasley trying to keep him, Ron, and Hermione apart to stop them going off hunting Horcruxes by themselves. Mrs Weasley nearly knocking down an invisible Harry as she ran at Bellatrix Lestrange.

He smiled to himself sadly.

Harry wished he’d thought to do this before she’d passed away, but that couldn’t be helped now – and he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t live with regrets. So he’d come to talk to her grave in the hope that she would hear him, wherever she was, and know he was thinking of her.

He stepped off the path and wove his way between marble angels and granite crosses to a perfectly white headstone which almost glowed in the twilight. Glancing around self-consciously, he lowered himself to the grass in front of a freshly dug pile of soil.

“Mrs Weasley,” he started awkwardly, then shook his head and tried again.

“Molly. I – I came back this evening to tell you something I should have said forty-odd years ago,” Harry said in a rush, looking down at the grass he had nervously started pulling through his fingers.

“I’m sorry I kept putting it off… until… until it was too late. Well, ‘thank you’ is what I’m trying to say. Thank you for being a mother to me – at Hogwarts, and afterwards. Thank you for sending me my first ever Christmas present in my first year.” The corners of Harry’s mouth twitched as he remembered his surprise. “And for every year after that.”

He stopped suddenly, looking up at the stone as if he were looking into her eyes. “And I never repaid you; although not even all the gold in Gringotts could buy a mother’s love. I’m sorry…”

Harry’s voice cracked. He looked back down at the grass as a drop of salty water fell from his right eye onto his hand.

“Most of all, thank you for adopting me as your son in all but name; especially because you already had your hands full. Because if I hadn’t been able to experience what Voldemort had taken away from me, I probably wouldn’t have been able to defeat him.”

Harry looked up again in sudden understanding, a fierce light burning in his emerald eyes.

“Dumbledore said the power I had was Love – but, really, it wasn’t my Love, it was the Love that you, and everyone else, had ever given me, stored up inside my soul. So, in all honesty, you were the one who defeated Voldemort, simply by caring.”

Looking up at the sky and the bright stars, Harry chuckled; he could see Sirius.

“Wherever you’ve gone, Molly, I hope you know what you did for me, and how grateful I am. Thank you.”

With that, Harry got up, dusted off his robes, and turned towards the gate – a smile on his face and peace in his heart.

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The Start of a Life of Lies – Harry Potter Fanfiction

Another piece of fanfiction I ‘published’ last summer. This one is Draco’s POV of the first time he meets Harry. AU if you don’t want to believe it.

Title: The Start of a Life of Lies
Characters/Pairings: Harry, Draco
Rating: PG
Genre: Family/Angst
Length: 1,217

Summary: The Malfoy family appears strong, held together by their shared opinions on how the world should run. Can Draco live the life that is expected of him in order to keep up this pretense?

(Also posted elsewhere – see list of all my fanfiction)

When we got to Madam Malkin’s, Mother left me to get my robes fitted alone while she went off to ‘just have a look in that shop over there’. I looked over my shoulder as I walked in through the door, and saw her nervously vanishing down a small alleyway which I knew led to Knockturn Alley, a place I was forbidden to go. Inwardly, I raised my eyebrows and sighed, but on the outside my face remained haughty and expectant. After giving my name and imperiously instructing the assistant to charge everything to the family account, I found myself stood on a stool in front of a large wall of mirrors with a piece of the finest – and most expensive –  robe material draped around my shoulders. As the assistant started pinning the material to the right length I admired my reflection in the mirror – the high, defined cheekbones which I had inherited from my mother and the silvery grey eyes from my father. My expression remained indifferent as I hid my true self behind a steel wall inside my mind.

After a few minutes, another boy was led to the stool next to mine. He looked about my age, but was incredibly skinny – although that may have been because the muggle clothes he was wearing were far too big for him. I observed him out of the corner of my eye as Madam Malkin started pinning his robes. He may have looked uncared for, but his bright green eyes were alive with excitement and wonder. This was obviously his first trip to Diagon Alley.

“Hullo, Hogwarts too?” I enquired. My father would expect me to have made ‘acquaintances’ by the time I arrived at school.

“Yes,” he replied.

“My father’s next door buying my books and Mother’s up the street looking at wands,” I lied, trying to impress the boy. I couldn’t exactly tell him the truth – that my father was at home ‘entertaining’ female guests supposedly without my mother’s knowledge, and she had disappeared into Knockturn Alley, probably to an illegal Dark Arts shop to find a way to take revenge upon my father. So I said what I would be expected to say. “Then I’m going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don’t see why first-years can’t have their own. I think I’ll bully my father into getting me one and I’ll smuggle it in somehow.” A small, almost unnoticeable, smirk had appeared on the boy’s face. I wondered what he was thinking.

“Have you got your own broom?” I asked.

“No”

“Play Quidditch at all?”

“No,” he repeated, looking more uncomfortable, almost as if he had not idea what Quidditch was.

I continued acting like the spoilt single-child descendant of an ancient pure-blood family that I was. “I do – Father says it’s a crime if I’m not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you’ll be in yet?”

“No”

I wondered whether he really didn’t know what I was talking about.

“Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I’ll be in Slytherin, all our family have been.” But only because anyone who isn’t has been disowned, I thought disgustedly. “Imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?”

“Mmm,” replied the boy noncommittally. I wondered whether he was just being polite and actually thought that Hufflepuff was great. Other opinions that my father held were not considered universally popular, so why would that one be any different?

I looked around for a change of subject, and found one standing outside the window, holding two ice creams and waving, apparently at the boy. “I say, look at that man!” I exclaimed.

“That’s Hagrid, he works at Hogwarts,” replied the boy, obviously happy to be able to answer with more than one word. I was annoyed that he knew something that I didn’t, especially since he hadn’t seemed to know much about Quidditch and the houses.

“Oh, I’ve heard of him. He’s a sort of servant, isn’t he?” I said, to prove that I wasn’t completely ignorant.

“He’s the gamekeeper,” the boy replied. He obviously liked the giant man.

“Yes, exactly,” I said, trying to provoke him. “I heard he’s a sort of savage – lives in a hut in the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic and ends up setting fire to his bed.”

“I think he’s brilliant,” scowled the boy. He seemed to not be easily led.

Do you?” I asked, condescendingly. “Why is he with you? Where are your parents?” I made sure I kept any hint of jealousy out of my voice.

“They’re dead,” he stated in a way that prevented more questions being asked about them.

“Oh, sorry.” I replied, keeping my voice devoid of all emotion, in case the jealousy crept in. The boy probably thought I was being cold and uncaring. I could take a guess at who had killed his parents though, and it bothered me. I wondered, “But they were our kind, weren’t they?”

“They were a witch and wizard, if that’s what you mean.”

I took a deep breath in, and breathed out confidence. Searching through my list of ‘disguises’, I pulled out my father’s personality and wore it.

“I really don’t think they should let the other sort in, do you?” I enquired, superiorly. “They’re just not the same; they’ve never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them haven’t even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine,” I sneered. “I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families.” I paused. “What’s your surname, anyway?”

But, before the boy could answer, Madam Malkin had finished his robes and he stepped off the stool as she said, “That’s you done, my dear.” He looked like he hadn’t really wanted to continue the conversation anyway.

“Well, I’ll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose,” I drawled, as the boy nodded and headed towards the front of the shop to pay for his robes. The assistant finished mine a minute of so later, but as I headed back to the Leaky Cauldron to wait for my mother, I couldn’t see the giant man and his skinny companion anywhere.

I pulled the pure-blooded, arrogant, Malfoy mask down over my true identity and prepared to live a lie.

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Spinning Out Of Control – Harry Potter Fanfiction

Here is the first piece of fanfiction I ‘published’ back in the summer 2010. It’s an alternative POV of a part of Deathly Hallows.

Title: Spinning Out Of Control
Characters/Pairings: Harry, Ron, Hermione. Ron/Hermione
Rating: PG
Genre: Fluff/romance
Length: 508

Summary: My mind was spinning out of control. This couldn’t be happening. But I should have expected it – the clues had all been there. I ran outside, calling his name, because he couldn’t have gone far. No answer. Gone.

(Also posted elsewhere – see list of all my fanfiction)

My mind was spinning out of control. This couldn’t be happening. But I should have expected it – all the clues had been there. I ran outside, calling his name, because he couldn’t have gone far. No answer. Gone.

I lay in bed, the covers pulled over my head, tears pouring from my eyes and soaking the pillow. I was afraid to turn over in case I saw his empty bunk; afraid to vanquish the last smidgeon of hope in me. Because if I did I would be crushed. I would become nothing but an empty shell, devoid of emotion and purpose. I wished – hoped – that it had all been a bad dream. I had been made to choose. Choose between the two people nearest to my heart. How could I abandon one for the other? I still couldn’t be sure the decision I had made was the right one. It was a long time before I cried myself into the blissfulness of sleep.

I awoke. My eyes were swollen and red, but exhausted of tears. The blissful, happy ignorance which remained from a dreamless night quickly faded as I looked across from me at an empty bunk. A cold, un-slept-in bed.

But there was still hope. He could still come back. He could still find us as long as we stayed here. We waited. We dragged our feet. We double and triple checked everything. Then we could wait no longer and disapparated. He’s gone. Forever.

I was in a meadow. The grass was a luscious green and was dotted with colourful flowers. The air smelt sweet, and I could hear birds singing from the trees ahead. I wandered through the perfect grass before I noticed a figure ahead of me, his flaming red hair almost glowing in the sunshine. I stopped walking in disbelief as he spotted me too. I started running towards him, and he towards me. As he reached me he flung his arms wide and picked me up, spinning me around in a circle, a grin stretched across his face which was mirrored by my own.

“I love you” he whispered in my ear.

I savoured the warmth of his strong arms around me, and deeply breathed in the scent radiating from his hair.

“Hermione”

I buried my face deeper into his shoulder and tightened my grip.

“Hermione!”

But, wait… Logic started to kick in. Hadn’t he…

Hermione!

I started awake, quickly shaking off the grogginess.

“What’s wrong? Harry? Are you alright?”

My eyes flickered over his face, noticing his skin’s slight blue tinge – as if he’d stayed outside in the cold too long – and his bright green eyes which were alive with something I hadn’t seen for… well, since…

“Its ok, everything’s fine. More than fine. I’m great. There’s someone here.”

I frowned. “What do you mean? Who- ?”

And then my eyes were drawn to the figure hiding in the shadows behind Harry. My brain froze. It couldn’t be…

And then my mind span back out of control.

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Writer’s Block: Hit the road, Cupid

(Question from LiveJournal)

If you had the power, would you permanently eliminate Valentine’s Day?

I laughed at this question, so I have to answer it!

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Sherlock Fanfiction

Earlier today I had a look at the Sherlock fanfiction I started writing a few months ago and found it’s actually quite good (even if I say so myself) and it’s got me in the mood to carry on and finish it. Here are some of the ideas I’m writing:

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