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Just the word brings emotions of
Conflicting notions as happiness and sadness,
Undying devotion, or utter madness.
But what does it mean to me, I wonder,
Which of these feelings does my heart fall under?
I ask you my love, yet you do not know,
For your own feelings are not yours to bestow
Upon me, and so with my utter resentment,
I must leave from your true, loving contentment.
I must find what love really means to me,
Is it the thundering storm, or the calm clear sea?
Is it the love of a mother, so full and hearty,
Or that which the poets speak of, so arty?
Is it found with the eyes, or that of the ears,
Or spurned by late and desperate fears?
I have seen them all, and I come to you now,
To place a soft kiss on your sweet, soft brow,
The answer, I see, has been always in my mind:
Love, in truth, is beautifully blind.
For not the first time in many nights, Severus Snape awoke in his bed in his home on Spinner's End. The Dark Mark hissed on his arm, causing his mouth to let out the same sound as his hand clamped down on the snake-and-skull. Over the summer the Dark Lord was constantly calling on him, since his time had greatly opened itself after killing Albus. At least, that's what everyone – well, almost everyone- believed to have happened. But soon the pain on his arm ebbed away, and his mind turned to other things. Well, one thing in particular. The one thing it always settled on, and one of the reasons why he would be leaving the house that very day.
~ * ~
Hermione still couldn't grasp why she was going back to Hogwarts. Now that she was old enough to do magic outside of school, she had joined the Order, just as both Ron, Harry, and many of the Gryffindor students had. As she sat on top of her suitcase at the Weasley's home, she sighed. Why had Snape killed Dumbledore? He didn't seem the type, e
A Salty Story Chapter One
"Hey ho and up she rises, Hey ho and up she rises, Hey ho and up she rises earlie in the mornin'!"
The song filled the grimy tavern even before the singer walked through the door. It turned out that a male was the one in such a good mood. His figure was of medium build, and showed strong muscles in residence. His arms were hidden under a large-and what appeared to be heavy- jacket, which was made of a black material and metal clasps. The cuffs at the edges of the sleeves were large, appearing to be folded. The beads in his raven hair clicked together as he came to a stop, peering around the tavern.
As he walked to the bar, his jacket parted slightly to show black pants, as well as heavy boots that clanked across the grit and spittle covered floor. Taking a stool beside a loud and obviously drunk man at the bar, he turned to face him as the tavern keeper placing a pint of ale in front of him. "Well, 'ello mate! You'd be the one they call Cogs, eh?" The drunk let out a grunt, to w
There Was A Boy... - Part 1
"That's it, hot momma! Take it off!"
"I spot a red thong!"
"Matches her bra quite nicely!"
For not the first time, a disgusted look passed over eighteen year old Lucc's face at his friend's catcalls. Twisting around in his seat, his white polo shirt caught on his slim figure as his one arm rested on the back of his chair. "Can you guys keep your dicks in your pants already? I'm trying to study!"
The two turned around from their position at a window, identical sly grins on their faces. The one on the left shook his head, causing tresses of his wavy, shoulder-length chestnut brown hair to sway. "Hey, if you saw this skin you wouldn't be saying that! You'd be over here with Mark and I!"
"Yeah!" chimed in Mark, nodding his head so vigorously that his blonde dreads bounced like they were on a mini trampoline.
Lucc rolled his set of navy blue eyes. "Suuuuuure I would, Stuart," he said sarcastically, "Of course I wouldn't! She's a woman, not some sideshow for you to ogle at!
HBB Severus : Part 2
"Good evening, Professor Snape."
If he had been anyone else, Severus was certain that he would have jumped. Instead, he smoothly turned around, the box covered from view with the back of his robes. His shoulders had hiked themselves up slightly, readying for a good raging at whoever had dared to come see him on his dismal birthday. As he saw the floating, long-breaded head being tickled by the fire in the fireplace, Severus sighed, his shoulders relaxing. He had been looking forward to shouting at someone. "Evening, Headmaster," he droned, leaning back against his desk.
Albus raised an eyebrow, causing his spectacles to slip down his crooked nose. "Not a good day?" he asked softly.
"Is it ever a good day?" Severus replied, keeping his tone light simply for the sake of whom he was talking to.
The Headmaster nodded his head empathetically- well, sympathetically, as far as the potions master knew. "Well, I brought you something that might lift your spirits." His hand soon came thro
A Lover's Quarrel
"But you can't leave me!"
The poor woman was obviously in hysterics. Though she kept her curly, chestnut brown hair pinned neatly to her head with a golden clasp that matched the girdle tied around her crisp, cream colored robes, her face was a right mess, with red splotches from yelling, and tear paths, still moistened, running down her cheeks.
"Please don't make this harder than it already is, my love."
Compared to her, the male looked almost statuesque. His long raven colored hair well matched the red and black robes he was adorned in. He, though, seemed to still have his head in the whole situation; I saw no tears, only a mask of calmness.
Hey, maybe I shouldn't have been peeking in on them, but I was beginning to grow impatient, and I needed to know what was keeping my uncle so long. I wasn't at all surprised to see that it was his wife holding him up.
She clutched at his robes, as though making a vain attempt to keep him with her. "Oh don't you 'my love' me! I hardly get t
No, I'm Not an Emo Kid
Life sucks. You know what? People suck too. You might ask why; mostly for the fact of all the people who just saw that who instantly expected I was some sort of Emo kid. Well guess what: I'm not. Get over it.
Yeah, I don't like life. Though, I wouldn't exactly call my life living. I'm always working, and I hardly ever talk to people, even the clients that I work for. Even as I walk down this street, I make no attempt to strike up a conversation, and people pass by me like I'm not even there.
But even though I don't enjoy life, I love the aspect of death. Not only death, but all the gods that are said to watch over the afterlife and such. And why not? It's just a way that people explain something that's obviously much simpler, though, I suppose Death doesn't mind since they all worship him anyways.
First, we have the Egyptians. Not only do they have Anubis, the Jackal God of Embalming, but they also have Osiris, who looks after the underworld. Maybe they have the right idea about
Happy Belated Birthday SeverusIt was once again dinnertime, and the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was packed with a myriad of people. All were busy filling their stomachs; well, all with the exception of one. A professor- for he was sitting at the head table- was glaring down his hooked nose at his empty plate. And why shouldn't I be angry? The greasy-haired male thought bitterly, another year has gone by and not one person has wished me a 'happy birthday'. Yes, today was January ninth, Severus Snape's birth date. Usually Dumbledore would wish him a happy birthday, but the headmaster was away on Order business, and so there was no one. This only added to his usual grumpiness, and he had picked on Gryffindor even more than usual in a feeble attempt to make his birthday stand out from any other day of the year.
Looking up from his plate, his head turned towards the Gryffindor table. Spotting the Golden Boy easily by using his redheaded friend as a marker, he was about to send
Malcae wandered aimlessly through the halls before finally settling in the throne room. Taking his chair, he rested his head on one hand, held up by his elbow on the arm rest. Many thoughts were fluttering through his head, making it difficult to concentrate on just one. So many different things to work out, so little time.
As he sat there, a guard burst through the doors. "Sir! You have a visitor!"
Malcae opened one eye; he hadn't even realized he had closed them. "Oh? I wasn't expecting anyone, whom is it?"
"Well sir, it's-" the guard was cut off as the doors flew open. At once, Malcae could see whom it was. All traces of his worried mind vanished has he jumped out of his seat. "Valin! What in Satan's name are you doing here?! Get out!"
Valin only laughed. It was obvious to see that the two looked identical. The hair, the face...nothing was out of place. The only difference was the clothing, obviously so. Valin sported a loose brown tunic and black leather pants, stuffed into the end
The Coffee GodThe Coffee God behind the counter shuffles foot to foot, a dance of steam and espresso. Black painted fingernails, inch gauged ears and a gray striped sweatshirt, hood crooked on his back. There's a cigarette tucked behind one ear; it bobs and twitches with each step.
“Non-fat caramel latte,” he calls, just as he always does, part of a spell, part of a mantra, toneless (just a tuck at the end). I reach. He looks up.
The espresso maker hisses.
There's something like a grin, something like a spark, something like a shared secret linked eye to eye. When he passes over the drink (rough cardboard sleeve hot to the touch), he lingers. Our fingers brush, a shiver, a jolt, a ten-watt shock.
The Coffee God tilts his chin, shouts, “Hey, mind if I take my break now?”
and ducks around the counter without waiting for a reply.
He slips his cigarette between his lips without taking his eyes from mine. I follow him out the door.
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