A shaggy dog story

A long, long time ago (in this galaxy,actually), my husband and I hitchhiked from Banff, Alberta, to Denver, Colorado, by way of Utah. One of our longest rides was from a New Yorker about our age. I think he'd been alone too many days for a New Yorker and took a chance with us, which was miraculous in itself, because after that many days on the road, my husband tended to look a bit, well, Charles Manson-ish. I suppose I was the mitigating factor in the decision.

Mr NYC asked if we minded driving through Arches National Park, which was fine by us. The only road through the park dead-ends, making it necessary to backtrack to get back on your way. What made this trip so memorable was that Mr. NYC never once got out of the car from start to finish. Oh, we stopped. He'd pull over, and then take pictures through the windshield. But he never let his feet touch the ground.

Okay, where am I going with this? Well, in my mad dash through all of the great and glorious fics in HP fandom, I often didn't let myself take the time to properly enjoy some stories. (Oh, my analogy is mind-boggling, is it not? In one way or another...)

Here are a few stories that I've had the pleasure of recently revisiting, and I enjoyed them even more than I had the first time. This list of fics has an angsty theme.

First up: The First Piece of Silver by isiscolo and its sequel, Before the Cock Crow .

This has such a terrific plot, it just has to be canon. No prominent pairing, but a lot of character interaction. Describes the fall of Peter Pettigrew in such a compelling way, you can't help but agree that, yes, this is the way it must have happened. Some friends, he thought, his heart feeling as crumpled as the letter. Some friends. Isis also includes a nifty explanation as to just why so many HP characters happen to be gay!

Another fic I've grown attached to, this one H/D: Thin as Thimble by Kay the Cricketed. Hurt/comfort. I adore h/c, I adore H/D, and I love the way this story is written from Draco's damaged view.

"I want to touch your face," I tell him.
He buries his face in his hands.
When he leaves, his eyes are redder than before, but I don't remember him crying.

A very similar fic, same h/c, same pairing, slightly different take: Sundays by General Manda. I think the similarities are strictly coincidental (the My Sweet Lord/He's So Fine scenario).

Hermione once asked me why I still come here when the effort is so fruitless. I told her she had her job and her family and I have my Sundays. It was almost funny to watch her brow furrow in an attempt to understand. The statement seemed so odd to her. I told her it was all I had left. My life was full of Sundays, because during the week I am dead.

Finally, another little heartbreaker by copperbadge (SamVimes), The Children . No pairing. Lots of teeth-gnashing angst, but so well characterized.

"Now you know how Harry felt," Hermione said quietly. Draco went very still.

"That was unnecessary, you know," he finally announced. He snapped the book shut and laid it, respectfully, on the table next to the chair. "We're supposed to fight, Hermione, it's what we do. You'll be reasonable, and I'll be insufferable, and eventually you'll win. It's not fair, bringing Harry into it."

"Life's not fair," Hermione said bluntly.

Bring hankies!