inkvoices (inkvoices) wrote,

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Story updates

The Valentine's fic is finished.  I was going to write my first peice of smut, instead I wrote a friendship fic about Ginny, Luna and cake.  But it's actually finished and it has cake, so not all bad.  First line: Ginny Weasley was not a fan of Valentine's Day.

A one-shot set in the Slytherin Common Room just after the Inquisitorial Squad has been formed is turning into a series of one-shots, a moment in the Common Room for every year.  I've written years five and six, so I'll have to backtrack to their first year if I want to post any of it sometime soon. Spoiler piece of Pansy dialogue: "Tormenting. Potter. Two words, Draco, which describe your life."

For February's
[info]omniocular challenge I'm trying to write a Harry Potter story that involves elements of the film 'Dogma', or is somehow linked to that film by a quote, it's title etc.  This one isn't going very well.  It has plot holes larger than the story, so I think I might have to chuck that one in the bin and start over.

There's a story about Charlie's first year at the dragon reserve on my computer that's made up of snatches of dialogue, random bits of description, a chunk copied and pasted off a Romanian tourist information website and a picture of the Welsh flag.  I don't know when I'm going to get around to finishing that one, but I really want to.  Dialogue-y bit: "Well, I was born
in Wales."  She smirked.  "If other people can obsess over me being Muggleborn then I can obsess over being born Welsh."

And the final piece of fanfiction that I have on the go is a scene set in the Transfigurations verse from Hermione's point of view that looks suspiciously like it might grow into something rather long, and by rather long I mean all the events covered in Transfigurations with all the parts that Pansy wouldn't have known about and then carrying on until the end of the year.  Extract: It was decidedly childish hiding in the library (and it was most definitely hiding, because she was sat on the floor in the Divination section where no one currently in residence at Hogwarts would come searching for a book and certainly not for her), but she felt entitled.

Storytime for today (because I have finished something that you can read now) is a very short piece with me trying out a different style:

Title: Absence Of Light
Rating: PG (for mentions of death)
Length: 455 words
Summary: To keep the light Draco has to go into the dark.


Absence of Light


His mother is cold, a sculpture carved in ice with pale perfection.  A single fingertip pressed warm against her face and she might start to melt.  Best not to risk it; he likes that she’s beautiful.


She can’t bring warmth, but she brings the light.  The tip of her wand ignites the candles decorating the centre of the dining room table, an act she will allow no House Elf to perform.  She spells candles to follow him about the garden, as he follows the peacocks, in the evening when the sun begins to sink.  She makes the Lumos Lamps of his room glow to chase away the terror of the night and charms stars on the ceiling that dance through his soaring dreams.


His mother is morning light, light that shines through the cold glass of a window.  Clear.  Transparent.   She illuminates.  From her come no demands of purpose, but explanations and reasons and a silence that allows you to think through the faults of what you just said.


It is easy to forget in the days at school, between the morning post and the night, that he misses her.  Here is light and a life outside home and illumination that does not come from her.


Yet night at Hogwarts is spent under the lake where ghostly green filters through enchanted windows to dance up and down the walls.  Green is not light, but something that accompanies the darkness of death, a sharp flash of it cutting jagged across a last breath.  The fingers of night dark still stroke down his spine.


That dark creeps into the day the older he gets, followed by the people of the night world.


When they talk, backed by the vague presence of him from home who always demands, they slide images into his mind of his cold mother thawing into cold death.  He thinks maybe he won’t listen to them, but best not to risk it; he likes that she’s beautiful.


They quietly talk at him in dimly lit rooms, in shadowed alleyways and abandoned places.  Eyes peer at him, holes that pull.  Black eyes that question him but give no answers and dark eyes that hint at madness and dimmed eyes that scream obedience.


Red eyes, but colour is not light.  Colour is the absence of light, cloth over a bird cage and curtains keeping out the day.


They drag him down to live in the night, with their demands and their voices and their eyes, and with the presence from home whom he loves too.  He loves them both.  He will not fail.


It is night and he cannot see stars, charmed or real.


But don’t worry, mother, he’s not afraid of the dark.


Tags: fanfiction: all, fanfiction: harry potter, writing updates/chatter

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