A Most Ingenious Paradox
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,455
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,455
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Her Louisiana: A Prologue of Sorts
Disclaimer: I don\'t own the characters or settings (with only one or two exceptions). I am not J.K. Rowling. This will not change in the future. Ever.
Her Louisiana: A Prologue of Sorts
It was a night as dark as any ever seen. The storm had passed but the clouds remained, obscuring the stars that would have illuminated the sky. The warm summer wind was cooled by the rain that chased away the crickets and lightning bugs and dampened the grass enough so that her footsteps could not be heard. The silence was unsettling and left her anxious to hear the hollow clunk of weathered bayou boards or the clatter of red brick pathway beneath her feet, nei neither could be found until she reached the city and that was at least a half-mile away.
She was fully aware that she shouldn’t be out at night, especially alone. The cottage she had rented for the summer was too isolated for someone who didn’t know how to handle the wildlife while managing to be too close for comfort to the neighbors she didn’t yet trust. To her right was a set of three brothers, clad always in overalls. They were the sort of overgrown boys who wrestled alligators for fun and who leered lecherously at her when they passed her in the street. On the left was an old woman, dripping with strands of large plastic beads, who kept her eggs in paper bags beneath her bed and whose main source of communication with the world was through the voodoo dolls that littered her house.
During the day she went to the city just to watch people. Her favorites were the old black men, with skin like leather and voices like gravel. The ones who knew everything because they’d been there and seen it all and who kept on pinching the waitress’s ass no matter how many times their hands had been playfully slapped away. The ones who breathed jazz, who sat playing checkers for hours even though the pieces never seemed to move, and who told stories so fantastic and unbelievable they just had to be true. At night, however, she stopped watching and started living the city. At night even strangers were family and you could talk to someone you’d never met like they were your best friend. At night the streets were ablaze with colored lights. The music was as Cajun as the food and you could taste both from the porch. That was what drew her in, night after night, common sense abandoned.
The nervousness was abating as the lights began to come into focus. She was filled with warmth and a distracted smile crossed her face. She was home free, safe now. Another trip without incident. The music became clear enough to sing along, and so there was no silence to break for the voice - hard as diamond and cold as ice - that came from behind her and whispered, “Petrificus Totalis”.
A/N: Please review, and please continue reading. I\'m an insecure applause whore.
Her Louisiana: A Prologue of Sorts
It was a night as dark as any ever seen. The storm had passed but the clouds remained, obscuring the stars that would have illuminated the sky. The warm summer wind was cooled by the rain that chased away the crickets and lightning bugs and dampened the grass enough so that her footsteps could not be heard. The silence was unsettling and left her anxious to hear the hollow clunk of weathered bayou boards or the clatter of red brick pathway beneath her feet, nei neither could be found until she reached the city and that was at least a half-mile away.
She was fully aware that she shouldn’t be out at night, especially alone. The cottage she had rented for the summer was too isolated for someone who didn’t know how to handle the wildlife while managing to be too close for comfort to the neighbors she didn’t yet trust. To her right was a set of three brothers, clad always in overalls. They were the sort of overgrown boys who wrestled alligators for fun and who leered lecherously at her when they passed her in the street. On the left was an old woman, dripping with strands of large plastic beads, who kept her eggs in paper bags beneath her bed and whose main source of communication with the world was through the voodoo dolls that littered her house.
During the day she went to the city just to watch people. Her favorites were the old black men, with skin like leather and voices like gravel. The ones who knew everything because they’d been there and seen it all and who kept on pinching the waitress’s ass no matter how many times their hands had been playfully slapped away. The ones who breathed jazz, who sat playing checkers for hours even though the pieces never seemed to move, and who told stories so fantastic and unbelievable they just had to be true. At night, however, she stopped watching and started living the city. At night even strangers were family and you could talk to someone you’d never met like they were your best friend. At night the streets were ablaze with colored lights. The music was as Cajun as the food and you could taste both from the porch. That was what drew her in, night after night, common sense abandoned.
The nervousness was abating as the lights began to come into focus. She was filled with warmth and a distracted smile crossed her face. She was home free, safe now. Another trip without incident. The music became clear enough to sing along, and so there was no silence to break for the voice - hard as diamond and cold as ice - that came from behind her and whispered, “Petrificus Totalis”.
A/N: Please review, and please continue reading. I\'m an insecure applause whore.