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geovikiHey, I'm celebrating. I've finished my nextbigfic, for the most part. I anticipate being able to complete the polishing in the next 10 days and then it's off to the betas.
It's book length. It's92,000 93,000 words.
It's complete, though, and will be posted as such. Except there's this one thing I need:
I need another beta or two. Now I already have the incomparable![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
isiscolo, bless her cotton socks, who has agreed to serve as one beta. Her strengths (among many) are an unerring eye for grammar and language, a feel for plot, and a terrific radar for crap. However, she's not a huge Harry/Draco fan, as she'd be the first to admit (although she just wrote one! - Mischief and Madness )
I could use a beta who can check the H/D dynamic, who can let me know if there are holes in the plot, and that it's consistent. If someone could Britpick it, that'd be another great help.
The rewards:
-my undying gratitude
-the opportunity for the first look at it
-the potential to make it better
-a Ferrari
-I lied about the Ferrari
The caveats:
-It's92,000 93,000 words. It's a book. Just so you know.
-It's Harry/Draco, but not unbearably so.
-There are three POVs throughout: Draco, Snape, and Dean Thomas.
-It spans a time from 5th year at Hogwarts to about 5 years after that.
-minimal character death, all offstage.
-for the first time, I wrote explicit M/M sex. No violence, though.
< fantasy > Okay, calm down, don't fight, there's room for everyone to volunteer < / fantasy >
If you might be interested, feel free to check out these additional glimpses, then either reply here or email me if you'd prefer the anonymity.
Chaining , my first short fic is now part of this beast.
The Wings of Azrael
here's a piece
And two kisses here
And here's one final, new piece:
A Thousand Beautiful Things by Duinn Fionn
~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~
"Every day I write the list of reasons why I still believe they do exist (a thousand beautiful things)."
"What was your first recollection of me at school, Dean?"
Dean Thomas allowed a smile to ghost across his face. Seamus had reached that time of the evening when he allowed the balance of late hours and just enough liquor to make him mellow and introspective. It was a mood that meshed very well with his own.
"Ah, Seamus, you know the answer to that already. It was our very first meeting on the train going to our first year. When you gave me my first chocolate frog, and then regaled me all the way to Hogwarts with stories about growing up in a wizarding family."
"Half-wizarding."
"Half-wizarding. But you got the important half. For someone who grew up in an immigrant Muggle family in East London, you were very impressive."
Seamus cracked a smile and took another long swallow of his drink. "For anyone, I was very impressive, mate."
"And we had both just got our wands, and you showed me how to flip open the girls' robes as they walked past, you pervy sod."
"I was talented, wasn't I," Seamus replied, heaving a false sigh. "I can safely say I taught you everything important you know."
"Talented? I think the girls might have had another word for it." He caught the eye of the waiter and indicated his empty glass, nodding at the mouthed question of refill. It had been his night to choose their watering hole, and tonight he'd opted for this trendy Muggle jazz bar near King's Cross Station. Seamus never complained at their wanderings around town – Dean never settled on the same bar twice – but when it was his turn, he always chose the same wizard bar near the Ministry.
"Ah, all the girls loved me at school."
Dean nodded politely, but he had his doubts as to the veracity of that. "And you? Same question."
Seamus looked uncharacteristically serious. "I remember you drawing a picture for me sometime that first week. Of Neville, of all people. But I was impressed with your talent, even then."
Dean was touched at the simple memory – he'd expected some kind of sarcastic answer. "Thanks, Seamus."
But the other man wasn't about to linger in sentimentality. "I wish I still had that drawing – I could make a fortune on an early piece of Dean Thomas art. But Scabbers got hold of it at some point. Chewed the shit out of it, and I threw it away. I hope it gave him diarrhea."
Accompanied by the soft piano, they continued to reminisce, frequently reduced to gales of laughter at some of their odd stories; but these happy memories were interrupted too often by reminders of what had followed, leaving Dean feeling melancholy over someone close who'd not survived the War.
"The first time I saw the Weasley twins, they were trying out some kind of weird colorizing spell and everyone in the Gryffindor common room had either red or yellow skin. It was disgusting."
"I remember knocking over a huge stack of books onto Hermione – I practically flattened her – and she nearly hexed me for it."
"Do you remember the time Padma Patil tried to transfigure a pen into a pillow and instead came up with a dildo? Merlin, I'll never forget the look on McGonagall's face when she saw it."
"How about the morning Lavender knocked over her cauldron in Potions and put everyone to sleep for the rest of the day? When we woke up, we were all slobbery and had strange lines and stuff on our faces from where we'd slept on our books and quills."
"And Malfoy woke up with the worst case of bedhead I'd ever seen."
"Oh, right, I remember that! He looked worse then than he did after Harry hexed him on the Hogwarts train home." Dean had to catch his glass after nearly knocking it over with an erratic wave.
"I think all my memories of Malfoy at school are nasty."
Dean looked thoughtful for a minute. "I remember a nicer one."
Seamus pulled a long swallow from his bottle. "Spill, then."
"It was in third year Defense Against the Dark Arts, when Lupin taught us. We were just starting Expecto Patronum. Lupin brought out something that looked like a Pensieve – we only used it that one time, and I can't even remember what it was called. Do you remember it?"
Seamus nodded. "Instead of liquid, it was filled with sand or something, wasn't that it?"
"Yeah. And Lupin wanted us to use it to draw out our most important thought, something we thought was at the center of our life, to help us focus when we needed something happy to make a Patronus. But I never did get it to work."
"Nor me, either." Seamus chuckled. "I mean, how old were we then? Thirteen? What kind of realistic idea did we have about what was at the center of our life? Beyond Quidditch, skiving off homework, and girls? Lupin should have known we were doomed to failure. None of us could make it work."
Dean frowned slightly. "No, Malfoy did. That's what I remember from the whole lesson. We all watched him create what was most important to him, there in the sand, and he didn't even break a sweat to do it, it was so simple for him. Do you remember what it was?"
Seamus shook his head. "No, what?" He laughed. "A pile of galleons? A set of designer robes? Maybe a pearl-inlaid comb?"
"No." Dean hesitated, then said, "It was Malfoy Manor. A perfect image, recreated there in Lupin's bowl of sand."
Seamus' smile faded and it took him a long time to answer. "That explains a lot, don't you think?"
"A lot. But not everything."
~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~
It's book length. It's
It's complete, though, and will be posted as such. Except there's this one thing I need:
I need another beta or two. Now I already have the incomparable
isiscolo, bless her cotton socks, who has agreed to serve as one beta. Her strengths (among many) are an unerring eye for grammar and language, a feel for plot, and a terrific radar for crap. However, she's not a huge Harry/Draco fan, as she'd be the first to admit (although she just wrote one! - Mischief and Madness )I could use a beta who can check the H/D dynamic, who can let me know if there are holes in the plot, and that it's consistent. If someone could Britpick it, that'd be another great help.
The rewards:
-my undying gratitude
-the opportunity for the first look at it
-the potential to make it better
-a Ferrari
-I lied about the Ferrari
The caveats:
-It's
-It's Harry/Draco, but not unbearably so.
-There are three POVs throughout: Draco, Snape, and Dean Thomas.
-It spans a time from 5th year at Hogwarts to about 5 years after that.
-minimal character death, all offstage.
-for the first time, I wrote explicit M/M sex. No violence, though.
< fantasy > Okay, calm down, don't fight, there's room for everyone to volunteer < / fantasy >
If you might be interested, feel free to check out these additional glimpses, then either reply here or email me if you'd prefer the anonymity.
Chaining , my first short fic is now part of this beast.
The Wings of Azrael
here's a piece
And two kisses here
And here's one final, new piece:
A Thousand Beautiful Things by Duinn Fionn
~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~
"Every day I write the list of reasons why I still believe they do exist (a thousand beautiful things)."
"What was your first recollection of me at school, Dean?"
Dean Thomas allowed a smile to ghost across his face. Seamus had reached that time of the evening when he allowed the balance of late hours and just enough liquor to make him mellow and introspective. It was a mood that meshed very well with his own.
"Ah, Seamus, you know the answer to that already. It was our very first meeting on the train going to our first year. When you gave me my first chocolate frog, and then regaled me all the way to Hogwarts with stories about growing up in a wizarding family."
"Half-wizarding."
"Half-wizarding. But you got the important half. For someone who grew up in an immigrant Muggle family in East London, you were very impressive."
Seamus cracked a smile and took another long swallow of his drink. "For anyone, I was very impressive, mate."
"And we had both just got our wands, and you showed me how to flip open the girls' robes as they walked past, you pervy sod."
"I was talented, wasn't I," Seamus replied, heaving a false sigh. "I can safely say I taught you everything important you know."
"Talented? I think the girls might have had another word for it." He caught the eye of the waiter and indicated his empty glass, nodding at the mouthed question of refill. It had been his night to choose their watering hole, and tonight he'd opted for this trendy Muggle jazz bar near King's Cross Station. Seamus never complained at their wanderings around town – Dean never settled on the same bar twice – but when it was his turn, he always chose the same wizard bar near the Ministry.
"Ah, all the girls loved me at school."
Dean nodded politely, but he had his doubts as to the veracity of that. "And you? Same question."
Seamus looked uncharacteristically serious. "I remember you drawing a picture for me sometime that first week. Of Neville, of all people. But I was impressed with your talent, even then."
Dean was touched at the simple memory – he'd expected some kind of sarcastic answer. "Thanks, Seamus."
But the other man wasn't about to linger in sentimentality. "I wish I still had that drawing – I could make a fortune on an early piece of Dean Thomas art. But Scabbers got hold of it at some point. Chewed the shit out of it, and I threw it away. I hope it gave him diarrhea."
Accompanied by the soft piano, they continued to reminisce, frequently reduced to gales of laughter at some of their odd stories; but these happy memories were interrupted too often by reminders of what had followed, leaving Dean feeling melancholy over someone close who'd not survived the War.
"The first time I saw the Weasley twins, they were trying out some kind of weird colorizing spell and everyone in the Gryffindor common room had either red or yellow skin. It was disgusting."
"I remember knocking over a huge stack of books onto Hermione – I practically flattened her – and she nearly hexed me for it."
"Do you remember the time Padma Patil tried to transfigure a pen into a pillow and instead came up with a dildo? Merlin, I'll never forget the look on McGonagall's face when she saw it."
"How about the morning Lavender knocked over her cauldron in Potions and put everyone to sleep for the rest of the day? When we woke up, we were all slobbery and had strange lines and stuff on our faces from where we'd slept on our books and quills."
"And Malfoy woke up with the worst case of bedhead I'd ever seen."
"Oh, right, I remember that! He looked worse then than he did after Harry hexed him on the Hogwarts train home." Dean had to catch his glass after nearly knocking it over with an erratic wave.
"I think all my memories of Malfoy at school are nasty."
Dean looked thoughtful for a minute. "I remember a nicer one."
Seamus pulled a long swallow from his bottle. "Spill, then."
"It was in third year Defense Against the Dark Arts, when Lupin taught us. We were just starting Expecto Patronum. Lupin brought out something that looked like a Pensieve – we only used it that one time, and I can't even remember what it was called. Do you remember it?"
Seamus nodded. "Instead of liquid, it was filled with sand or something, wasn't that it?"
"Yeah. And Lupin wanted us to use it to draw out our most important thought, something we thought was at the center of our life, to help us focus when we needed something happy to make a Patronus. But I never did get it to work."
"Nor me, either." Seamus chuckled. "I mean, how old were we then? Thirteen? What kind of realistic idea did we have about what was at the center of our life? Beyond Quidditch, skiving off homework, and girls? Lupin should have known we were doomed to failure. None of us could make it work."
Dean frowned slightly. "No, Malfoy did. That's what I remember from the whole lesson. We all watched him create what was most important to him, there in the sand, and he didn't even break a sweat to do it, it was so simple for him. Do you remember what it was?"
Seamus shook his head. "No, what?" He laughed. "A pile of galleons? A set of designer robes? Maybe a pearl-inlaid comb?"
"No." Dean hesitated, then said, "It was Malfoy Manor. A perfect image, recreated there in Lupin's bowl of sand."
Seamus' smile faded and it took him a long time to answer. "That explains a lot, don't you think?"
"A lot. But not everything."
~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~..~
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-03-30 09:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-01 04:43 pm (UTC)I'll email you with the details. It's getting cleaned up faster than I expected - maybe that's the adrenalin kicking in.
I tested emailing it to myself so I knew how bad it would clog the in-bin. About 3-4 minutes to receive the whole thing with the virus filter on.
no subject
Date: 2004-04-01 10:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-04 03:43 pm (UTC)I sent 3 emails to your livejournal address yesterday; did you get them? I'm almost certain the one with the story in it got trashed. Let me know.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-31 01:43 am (UTC)I'd love to get my grubby little hands on the fic before it's releasedif an obsessed H/D reader's opinion is any use, I volunteer :Dno subject
Date: 2004-04-01 04:44 pm (UTC)But fear not! It will be posted very soon so you don't have long to wait. And thanks again for your kindness.
no subject
Date: 2004-03-31 03:46 am (UTC)H/D has been my OTP ever since I started reading HP fics two years ago and I can spot clichés, toofluffy!Dracos and other things. However, I am not so good at spotting plotholes, I must admit.
If you want me to help you, email me at arwena [at] livejournal [dot] com. :)
no subject
Date: 2004-04-01 04:47 pm (UTC)If you beta those writers, though, you must be good, because I adore their things!
The fic will be posted as soon as the betas are finished, so you shouldn't have long to wait.
no subject
Date: 2004-04-01 10:46 pm (UTC)Can't wait to read the fic. :)
no subject
Date: 2004-03-31 03:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-01 04:50 pm (UTC)I am still undecided about going with British spellings at this point. Maybe you have some feelings about that. But I definitely need someone to look for big cultural boo-boos. I've made some attempts to get it right, even querying HP_britglish for details on neighborhoods, football tidbits, and ugly British people (well, you'll see...)
And thanks so much for this! (I hope you're still enthusistic after the now 93,000 words).
no subject
Date: 2004-04-01 11:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-04 03:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-05 02:04 am (UTC)The story downloaded fine, will get it back to you asap.
no subject
Date: 2004-04-30 01:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-01 08:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-01 04:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-01 05:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-04 11:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-04 03:48 pm (UTC)(Except I just finished reading
no subject
Date: 2004-04-04 03:49 pm (UTC)