You know, this feels good. There are lots of ways to waste my time, but some of them are more satisfying than others. For example, I could bore my friends on Skype by talking about how thunderf00t is Youtube cancer, but how fulfilling is that? No, I find more joy in pretending I'm a literary critic.
There's just something oddly... delightful about Rose Potter. It was a dumb Mary Sue Harry Potter fixfic before Mary Sue Harry Potter fixfics became overtly malicious. The combination of copied and original prose always makes for a nice juxtaposition (another potshot at Lily's Changes, which would occasionally lift passages from the books without any regard to context, and even if they hadn't been bolded they'd stick out like sore thumbs against the backdrop of description less dialogue), and the ways the author manages to screw things up can get genuinely funny. Without further adieu, let's move on to chapter 3 of Rose Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.
“Ron!” I breathed in astonishment. “Ron, how did you – what the…?”
Harry reacted like this in the book because he was
surprised. He was locked in his room and Ron just appears out of the blue in a flying car.
In this, Rose knew that the Weasley's (sic) were coming to pick her up, and she saw the car approaching. The only reason she has to be surprised is if a flying car just blows her mind that much.
My mouth fell open at the full impact of what I was seeing hit me. Ron was leaning out the back window of an old turquoise car, which had flown in the air and landed. Grinning and winking at me from the front seats were Fred and George, Ron’s elder twin brothers.
I can get the idea that even when you're exposed to a world of crazy magic shit, things can still surprise you, but... come on, how much impact can this have? Harry might've been surprised, but that had more to do with being actually
surprised (and also not spending the entire summer practicing magic in hippy camp).
So Rose scolds Ron for doing this in a public road, Ron asks her why they're picking her up here, and the author attempts a joke.
“This is where I spend my summers, now that I’m adopted by Minnie,” I said, “and don’t you dare call her that at school, or you’ll have detention with her for a term!” The twins shuddered theatrically.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” said Fred or George. I couldn’t figure out which.
I appreciate the effort, author.
“So your house is hidden, yeah?” asked Ron.
“Yes,” I said, “it’s through a hidden spot in the tree line. But only I know where it is, or can see it.” It was the truth from a certain roundabout point of view.
Note this. This is important. I don't know if the author
meant for it to be important, but if you're into shit like character psychology and consequences and shit this is the first part of what is actually the most compelling thread of this story.
Sometimes the most interesting parts of our stories are the things we didn't intend.
So they get in the car, fly off, Rose tells them about Dobby, they cover a lot of stuff that was in the book about them wondering who's behind shit. Pointless changes do come up.
“I’m glad we came to get you, anyway,” said Ron. “I was getting really worried when you didn’t answer any of my letters. I thought it was Errol’s fault at first…”
“Who?”
“Our owl. He’s ancient. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d collapsed on a delivery. So then I tried to borrow Hermes…”
“Again, who?”
You know, when Harry was in this scene, his lines were "Who's Errol?" and "Who?" You see, it conveys the same sense of confusion, but it also has a reaction. Hermes, as is explained, is Percy's owl, and it's kind of a pretentious name. Harry's response to hearing that name just dropped is a bit more flabbergasted. Here, Rose just sounds condescending. Like Ron's just trying to talk about what's been going on, and where Harry's asking for clarification so he knows what Ron's talking about, Rose is belittling him for his poor communication.
“So does you dad know you’ve got the car?” I asked. “Minnie asked you guys to come fetch me.”
“No,” said Ron, “he had to work tonight. And Professor McGonagall did owl us to come and fetch you; it’s just that my parent’s never got to see it. It was all rather late minute stuff you know. Hopefully we’ll be able to get it in the garage without Mum noticing we flew it.”
[[quoteblock]]This raises so many questions. Why did McGonagall wait so long to send a letter to the Weasleys? Why did she assume they'd be able to take care of it? Did she have a backup plan for if they weren't? Oh, wait, even if she did apparently it was so last-minute that they wouldn't be able to respond before the deadline passed and so Rose would be waiting on the road for a long time...
Blah blah blah, explaining stuff about Arthur Weasley...
Blah blah blah, Molly scolds the kids...
Lots of stuff that as far as I can tell is just copypasted.
[[quoteblock]]“Ginny,” said Ron in an undertone to me. “My sister. She’s been talking about you all summer.”
“Yeah, she’ll be wanting your autograph, Rosey,” grinned Fred, but he caught his mother’s eye and bent his face over his plate without another word. Nothing more was said until all four plates were clean, which took a surprisingly short time.
Totally heterosexual, guys.
Blah blah blah Gilderoy Lockhart is first mentioned, then de-gnoming. Ah, good, now for the self-aggrandizing edits!
I knew of druidic way to make the gnomes voluntarily evict their holes, but I only wanted to practice my druidic magic in private. It would bring too many awkward questions.
Mmmm. This is after she apparently doesn't know what a gnome is, by the way.
Oh, goodie, one of Rowling's funny lines.
The air was soon thick with flying gnomes.
Ahh... makes me feel kind of... happy. I mean, yeah, it gets a little boring when the author doesn't change anything at all, but sometimes the things I liked about the originals seeps through until we get to the hilarious "original" content. Compare that with shit like Partially Kissed Hero, which alternates between being boring, infuriating, and profoundly messed up. Maybe I'll get back to that one later...
Blah blah blah, Arthur returns home and gets berated by Molly for enchanting the car, Rose goes up to Ron's room.
Ron’s school spell books were stacked untidily in a corner, next to a pile of comics which all seemed to feature The Adventures of Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle. Ron’s magic wand was lying on top of a fish tank full of frogspawn on the window-sill, next to his fat grey rat, Scabbers, who was snoozing in a patch of sun. Maybe it was paranoia, or the natural empathy I had started to develop as a druidess for living creatures, but a strange feeling surged through me as I saw Scabbers.
Can't wait until you guys see what happens in
Prisoner of Azkaban. Just wait for it. Also why would you be paranoid?
So the actual chapter in the original book ends with Harry saying he thinks the whole place is great. Not so here. We get ORIGINAL CONTENT!
It was an hour later and I was laughing myself hoarse at the Martin Miggs comic, the things they had a supposedly mad Muggle doing was as ridiculous as to be laughable, things that a Muggle wouldn’t be caught dead doing for real. But I supposed that was the idea behind it.
Ya think?
But you know, there's a small part of me that actually kind of likes this paragraph. We see the character enjoying herself with a fun time-waster. It's one of the few humanizing moments Rose has in this entire series.
“Rosey!” came a call from downstairs. I stared at Ron who was trying to unsuccessfully organise his old school books from last year, he shrugged.
I ran down the stairs and into the kitchen. There a very welcome sight met my eyes.
“Ma!” I exclaimed in happiness and ran forward to hug Minnie, who was beaming at the sight of me. She looked slightly travel worn and was wearing red robes.
“Oh my dear,” said Minnie, “you’ve grown and your hair.” She flitted her hand through the long black mane of hair travelling down my back.
“Yeah, my morphing skills have grown,” I said happily, while holding on tightly to her and feeling content. “I can change colour too,” I said while looking at Mrs Weasley who was sitting at the kitchen chair enjoying a cup of tea, and my hair changed to an exact shade of Weasley red. Mrs Weasley laughed. We finally broke the hug.
Wait, I thought she was supposed to keep the metamorphmagus powers a secret. Now she's just gonna let Mrs. Weasley, who she hasn't even known for an entire day, know it?
Well, apparently that's not all she's letting Mrs. Weasley in on.
“Well, here is your trunk,” said Minnie, gesturing to where it lay on the floor behind her.
“I’ll get one of the twins to take it up to Ginny’s room,” said Mrs Weasley helpfully. “Sit down, Minerva, and have a spot of tea, you look tired.”
“Thank you, Molly,” said Minnie. I sat down next to my adoptive mother.
“What have you been doing, Ma?” I asked curiously.
“Oh, just travelling to the families of new Muggle-born students and the like, most think it’s a joke when their Hogwarts letter’s arrives, so I have to go and convince the parents, and explain the rules of our world, and why it would be in all’s best interest for their children to attend Hogwarts,” explained Minnie.
“You must have a bunch of interesting stories to tell then,” I smiled.
“You have no idea,” said Minnie dryly.
At first I was thinking "you know, this dialogue isn't quite that bad. It's a little dry, but it's building character and shit." Then I proceeded.
“Can you tell me how Hermione’s parents reacted?” I asked eagerly. Minnie laughed into her cup of tea almost choking.
“Well as you know both her parents are dentists, really logical, bookish, if both of them were magical I would guess they would be in Ravenclaw,” said Minnie. “But when I showed them my animagus form and did a few basic charms in front of them and told them their child was a witch, they both looked at each other and slapped their foreheads; as if they should have realized it all along.”
Oh.
“What do you mean?” I asked confused.
“Rosey, you certainly did a lot of accidental magic growing up at the Dursleys,” said Minnie. “Well, Miss Granger also did a lot as well. Her parents related to me an incident where she was about to get an injection from a Muggle Doctor. She was so distraught about it, that when the needle touched her skin, it bent and twirled itself into a perfect little bow. The only way they could get her to take Muggle medicine was in liquid or…pill form.” I chuckled at the thought of a tiny Hermione crying and the astonished Doctor staring at his injection.
Oh. Oh no.
Minnie turned to Mrs Weasley. “Molly, can you make it so our further conversation cannot be overheard.”
“Certainly,” said Mrs Weasley and waved her wand and all the kitchen doors shut and blinds fluttered shut over the window.
“So what did you learn this summer young lady?” asked Minnie. I frowned for a moment wondering about Mrs Weasley’s presence. Minnie saw it and sighed. “I thought it prudent to inform Molly that you are a trainee druidess, it will help immeasurably to have her on your side, especially as you must continue practicing daily.” I looked nervously at Mrs Weasley, wondering what she thought about it.
“Don’t worry dear,” said Mrs Weasley patting my hand on the table, “you should be honoured to be taught by the Druids. In fact one of my cousins, who the family thinks is an accountant, is actually a Druid. He asked me to help him spread some disinformation about himself.”
But... why? Rose won't trust Ron to know about this, but she'll trust Hermione and Mrs. Weasley?
Spoiler alert: Rose really treats Ron like shit. That's what makes this take on Chamber of Secrets accidentally interesting. But more about that later, let's talk about other crazy stuff!
“Oh, well in that case,” I said with relieved smile, “I have animal empathy down pat, I can summon ravens about three of them, I mastered a few vine creeper spells, and I can influence earth, air and fire in basic ways, but the water element is stubborn and hardly listens to me,” I said grumpily.
Is that what you learned this summer or are you just reading off of your DnD character sheet?
“Impressive, for five weeks,” said Minnie thoughtfully, “don’t worry about the water element, it is notoriously stubborn, and all druids report this problem. In my time I have come to think of water’s personality as a manifestation of Professor Snape.” I chuckled at that.
“I’ve started on animal shape-shifting, Cerelian has given her permission for you to continue my training in that,” I said.
“Did she?” said Minnie, in surprise. “Well, she’s certainly different from most among the druids then. Most would abhor having an Apprentice be influenced in their skills by another.”
“She is a rather forward thinking druidess, she said so herself to me, and she allows me to call her by her name,” I said with a lopsided smile.
Oh, waddya know, she
does have a character trait I guess.
“Really?” asked Minnie. “Well, I couldn’t have picked a better druidess then to teach you Rosey.”
“Oh my,” said Mrs Weasley, “you both have me as curious as the proverbial cat now, about these skills.”
What. Molly doesn't talk like that. She's not "country bumpkin." Or whatever that stereotype is.
“Well besides my animagus form, Rosey, is the only one who can demonstrate it to you, as a druidess must retain her intimacy with nature to use them,” said Minnie. “I’m afraid I have long since lost that in thirty years, I would need at least a year or two in solitude to regain what I had.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” said Mrs Weasley frowning.
I'm... not sure how this follows from the previous paragraph. But now we get to the good part.
“Mrs Weasley, I do all this without a wand, the Ministry can’t track me doing this,” I said and relaxed and called to the wind. A small twister of air started to swirl on the ground next me. I smiled and let it go. “That is the only thing I can do in here, without causing damage to the house.” I shook my head as a memory of the past six weeks returned to me. “Minnie, some of elemental spells Cerelian showed are…” I felt reluctant to continue.
“Lethal, vicious, and destructive,” said Minnie softly.
And now, let's turn to disc 1, track 13, of
Hamilton, "Wait for It."
“Yes, she showed me a spell called Fissure, it opens a small volcanic vent beneath the feet of your adversary,” I shuddered at the thought of mastering that one day and using it. Mrs Weasley gasped at that.
Death doesn't discriminate, between the sinners and the saints. It takes, and it takes, and it takes, and we keep living anyway. We rise and we fall and break and we make our mistakes, and if there's a reason I'm still alive when everyone who loves me has died, I'm willing to wait for it...
“I’ll tell you a story, Rosey, you know the Italian city of Pompeii and do you know what happened to the people of the town at around 300 B.C.?” asked Minnie.
“Well, yes, the Muggle version at least, that the volcano that was nearby erupted suddenly and killed almost everyone,” I said.
WAIT FOR IT WAIT FOR IT WAIT FOR IT WAIT FOR IT
“There was a druidess living in Pompeii with her husband, she had not told him of her abilities, knowing that it would not be long before word spread of her presence, they had a happy family there with two children,” said Minnie, taking a drink of tea.
Can you see where this is going?
“One day the family was held captive by robbers and the druidess had no option but to enlist nature to her aid, killing the robbers and saving her family. As you can imagine, her husband was upset, in a fit of rage at her deception he condemned her and petitioned for her exile and that of his own children, since he knew they would be magical as well. The petition was successful and as she walked with her children, she saw in the distance Pompeii and the long dormant mountain volcano of Vesuvius. At that moment she could no longer suppress her anger at her husband, if her husband had truly loved her he would have been angry but eventually forgiven her. Her anger also turned to the townspeople who had exiled her.”
Woooooooooooooow.
I mean, don't get me wrong, I can get behind old stories about big awesome retribution and stuff (to an extent). Those stories can be told, but they have to be elegant and have something to do with, like, pissing off grand cosmic powers beyond mortal comprehension. That's probably what the author was going for, but it doesn't work in this context because we haven't seen anything about druids that makes them look like they're on that level. So it just sounds randomly petty. It's also pretty random.
Also why are you teaching a twelve-year-old this kind of shit that's messed up.
“So she called on the earth and spelled the mountain of Vesuvius to erupt,” I said in awe and horror.
“Yes,” said Minnie, “the lesson I want to teach you is, that the fact that you can do something that is construed by everyone to be dark, destructive and evil, does not mean that you are those things.”
“Intent, everything is about intent,” I said.
“True,” nodded Minnie.
Hhhhhhhhhow? How does that story illustrate that concept? The druid's intent in that story was fucking up someone who screwed her over. Like, fuck, there was that dumb episode of Doctor Who where the Doctor blew up Vesuvius because there were aliens planning to take over the world inside it. Well, that's not exactly the same case, but I'm sure everyone knows about a story of a character who has "bad" powers (example off the top of my head is Kyle Katarn from those old Star Wars video games, a Jedi who regularly used lightning and choke powers) who uses them to good ends. But this doesn't illustrate that. At all.
In short, I don't think the author thought this through.
So that scene ends, and we have another original scene!
It was later that evening, and I was almost falling asleep on my feet, with my trunk next to me. Fred who had put my trunk in Ginny’s room, came back an hour later to report that the trunk was on the landing and that Ginny was not opening her door. I was on the third floor landing, with Mrs Weasley who was indignantly calling through the door.
“Ginevra Weasley, you open this door right now!” shouted Mrs Weasley. “Rosey, is dead on her feet out here, and I will not stand for a guest to sleep on the couch in my house!”
Commas... the author doesn't know how to use commas...
I had offered to sleep on the couch, but Mrs Weasley would hear none of it. I had a tiny inkling something like this would happen. It was at this point the Mr Weasley joined them in their efforts. They had so far been reluctant to use magical force to enter the room, as apparently Mrs Weasley said the rest of the family would rue it later.
“Come on, Gin-Gin, open the door,” said Mr Weasley.
“Um, can I try?” I said. Both elder Weasley’s shrugged and nodded.
“Ginny,” I called, “please let me in. I am really tired out here.”
“I-I can’t,” responded a small voice through the door.
“Why not?” I asked gently.
“I’ll be embarrassed and you’ll hate me,” she said petulantly.
Who talks like this.
You know, Ginny was all weird around Harry in book two because he was famous and she had a crush on him. Keep in mind how the author of this fic insists there's totes nothing lesbian about Rose.
“Why would I do a thing like that?” I asked reasonably. There was no answer. Mr Weasley suddenly gasped in realization and turned to whisper to me.
“Rosey, you know how Ron is rather a fan of the Chudley Cannons, as you can guess from his room,” stated Mr Weasley. I nodded. “Well, Ginny you see, is rather a fan of you,” said Mr Weasley delicately, “and like Ron, her room reflects it quite clearly.” Oh.
So anyway Rose just magically forces herself into the room because she's a self-centered twat who has no concern for the feelings or well-being of others.
“Mrs Weasley what if I use a bit of magic to open the door, she won’t blame you then,” I stated. Mr Weasley almost protested but looked in consternation as he saw that I had no wand with me.
“If you would, dear,” said Mrs Weasley gratefully. I nodded and tapped my finger on the lock.
“Alohomora,” I said clearly. The lock snapped open and Mr Weasley gasped.
Yawn.
I opened the door slowly to peak inside. It was quite dark and I could hardly make out what was going in the room. There was a bed to one side and in the dim moonlight coming through the room I could see a small figure lying on it, with the bed spread wrapped around it like an Egyptian mummy.
She probably heard you when you said "Alohamora" "clearly" outside.
As silently as a ghost
OI IT'S POTTY WEE POTTER!
Sorry I needed a joke. Or at least a reference to something better than this.
As silently as a ghost I padded forward into the room. Mr Weasley was indeed right about Ginny’s room. There were pictures of me all around the room; all of them were taken from ones I had recognised as pictures taken during last year and were sent by the twins to Ginny to give her a piece of Hogwarts until she herself arrived this year. There were even a bunch of conceptualised artist drawings of me I recognized that came from books like Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts.
The author of that book just stuck in a bunch of "conceptualized artist drawings"? Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeird.
I sat down on a chair at the small study desk next to her bed.
“Ginny,” I said gently. The girl gave a startled gasp and sat up, her startled face emerging from the bedspread, just as quickly she pulled it over her again.
What, you didn't feel like putting "startled" into the third part of that run-on-sentence? I mean, come on, if you're gonna write bad, go all the way. None of this half-assed shit. Give us full-assed shit.
“Listen to me, I am in your room I’ve seen it and I don’t hate you, to tell you the truth I’m a bit flattered. If you think you’re embarrassed you should see me, I’m as red as a tomato here.” There was a tiny giggle that came from the mound of bedspread. “Now, will you allow me to sleep in your room, I’m really tired.” I yawned loudly.
Maybe I'm just being uncharitable but I'm just imagining everything she says in monotone.
Why did I do this and not start on my BoJack Horseman liveblog? That show's great. I'm gonna start a new blog and rewatch the first two seasons to get ready for the third season this July.
“Ok,” said Ginny softly. I nodded towards Mrs Weasley who came bustling into the room and Mr Weasley bringing the trunk in.
You... are generally supposed to put a . at the end of "Mr" and "Mrs," right? I'm not crazy am I? Fuck I can't remember whether or not the comma was supposed to be inside the quotes on "Mrs" or outside. Nothing in the world makes sense to me anymore.
“Gin,” said Mrs Weasley
I'd like some after reading this, yes please.
, who flashed a smile of approval at my actions, she turned to her daughter. “That was bad manners; you know that, which you will get punishment for that later, but not now. Understand?” Ginny nodded her head. Mr Weasley had pulled out an extra mattress and blankets from under Ginny’s bed and pushed it to the other side of the small room.
“Good night dears,” chorused Mr & Mrs Weasley and closed the door. Ginny in the meantime tapped her hand on the lamps in the room; I assumed they must have been charmed beforehand to allow this. I stretched out my hand to Ginny, and shook it lightly.
“Rosey Potter, a pleasure to meet you Ginny Weasley,” I said with a kind smile.
“Hi,” said Ginny nervously.
“Well, I’m sorry that I can’t chat with you more, but I haven’t slept in over thirty hours,” I said arranging the mattress and blankets.
“That’s fine,” said Ginny softly watching me.
This has to be intentional. There's no fucking way the author didn't realize how this looked. And yet it never actually, y'know... comes up over the course of the series. And that isn't because "well maybe the author didn't want to bring sex into it" because A. that makes the assumption that same-sex attraction is always about sex, which the modern LGBT movement has been trying to move away from (for example in, say, Steven Universe), and B. ohhhhh this story does bring sex into it. Just you wait (ooh, another
Hamilton reference).
I was so tired I just graced my hand over the amulet and my ‘apparent’ clothes disappeared. It was only Ginny’s gasp that told me I should have done that under the blankets if I had wanted to hide the amulet. I had no reservations of appearing nude in front of her. I turned around to face Ginny who was turning a violent shade of red in the face.
Ooooooops, someone's been naughty (tee hee!)~
Sorry, I think I just had an aneurism. Or twelve.
“Hey, easy there Ginny, we’re all girls here, we both have the same bits,” I smiled as I pulled off the amulet and locked it away in my trunk. I fell underneath the blankets and turned on my side to face Ginny. It took a few minutes for her to get her composure back.
The author has watched too much porn. I don't got nothin' against watching porn, but one has to understand...
“Do you promise to keep this a secret if I tell you? And I mean from everyone or anything. Say yes or no, with your hands in my sight and your eyes in mine.” I said, my tone of voice said clearly that it would not be a good idea to break that promise.
“Yes,” said Ginny, her hands open to me, and I saw in her eyes that she wouldn’t. So I explained, the druidic amulet, why I wore it, and that I was a trainee druidess.
“You mean you actually wear no clothes at all?” said Ginny aghast.
your only question? Nothing about the people living in the woods or the crazy supermagic? You've got some weird priorities.
“Yes,” I shrugged. “Only the amulet, in fact I totally abhor wearing clothes, it feels like I’m being suffocated and isolated when I do.” Ginny frowned as if actually contemplating that but then shrugged.
When our conversation finally died down I fell into a deep sleep
This chapter didn't end on a period, so neither will I
Comments
- Yes, I said, its through a hidden spot in the tree line. But only I know where it is, or can see it. It was the truth from a certain roundabout point of view.
So she is Obi Wan now? Why? What is the purpose of covering this up? Or maybe she is just a pathological liar, and there is no reason.- Maybe it was paranoia, or the natural empathy I had started to develop as a druidess for living creatures, but a strange feeling surged through me as I saw Scabbers.
Okay, I have an issue here. Should the feelings from paranoia and natural empathy be the same, or be easily confused? I would expect the empathy to be in some sense positive—at least she might think that would be the case, provided she was unable to use her empathy to perceive a reason for it to be distressing—as opposed to what you would get from paranoia.- The only way they could get her to take Muggle medicine was in liquid or…pill form.
Why is that ellipsis there? Was that an understated suppository joke?- I chuckled at the thought of a tiny Hermione crying and the astonished Doctor staring at his injection.
So this is a crossover now, is it?- you should be honoured to be taught by the Druids. In fact one of my cousins, who the family thinks is an accountant, is actually a Druid. He asked me to help him spread some disinformation about himself.
Is there anyone who is not a druid or connected to druids?- I have animal empathy down pat,
Which is why you were able to identify Scabbers as a human in animagus form. Granted, this un-self-aware overconfidence is believable from the character, but I have my doubts that it was intended.- the lesson I want to teach you is, that the fact that you can do something that is construed by everyone to be dark, destructive and evil, does not mean that you are those things.
So, I might take that as an indication that you do not want to teach this kind of thing to anyone until you have determined they, um, are not Those Things. Which is why you waited until they were . . . eleven. Oh.- In short, I dont think the author thought this through.
I kind of took the message of see this is terrible but you never murdered a city. So you are not bad even though you can. Which is a message, but a vapid one.- You know, Ginny was all weird around Harry in book two because he was famous and she had a crush on him. Keep in mind how the author of this fic insists theres totes nothing lesbian about Rose.
Point taken, but this is not about Rose; it is about Ginny. What matters more is how Rose reacts . . . which is going to go on to support your point, because of course it will.- Then why did you volunteer Ginnys room in the first place you stupid bi
Because you cannot have a mixed-gender sleepover. Never mind the fact that I do not remember any sign of attracton between Ron and Rose (but it has been a while), whereas Ginny has a crush on her. Well fuck. This almost looks like she did not think this through.- The author of that book just stuck in a bunch of conceptualized artist drawings? Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeird.
But are they geometrically shaped?- You... are generally supposed to put a . at the end of Mr and Mrs, right?
Not in the British usage. And I think I saw some superfluous u-s and s-instead-of-z-s.- I was so tired I just graced my hand over the amulet and my apparent clothes disappeared. It was only Ginny’s gasp that told me I should have done that under the blankets if I had wanted to hide the amulet. I had no reservations of appearing nude in front of her.
Ahem. Fuck you. What you are comfortable with is somewhat less important than what Ginny is in this situation.- Hey, easy there Ginny, were all girls here, we both have the same bits,
The relevance of which is . . . I might go with nonexistent in this case.- It took a few minutes for her to get her composure back.
Probably took longer than it should have because, twat that Rose is, she did nothing to make Ginny more comfortable, such as put clothes on