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| Laur, Laura and me made a ring and we do and would appreciate having
you to come on board with us in our brand spanking HBP new ring! It's
still under construction but most of the things are there.
Character lists are available on the main journal -- NineandThreeQuarters
Original characters are welcome to join too!
We're using the current time for the roleplay, so there's no need to change the dates. And check the calendar to know how the plots are progressing everyday.
Doesn't mean that you have to follow what the calendar said but just to
make it easier for you if you're having a writer's block, okay?
Thanks in advance if you're joining Wisteria Walk. You just blooming awesome, aight?
MERRY
CHRISTMAS!
-D.
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“Boy, bring in the paper! Boy, don’t drag your legs! Boy! Where’s my
paper? Don’t give me that look! Boy! Hurry up with the paper!”
It was like this every single morning in the Dursley home. Every
morning, the boy retrieve the morning newspaper and deliver it to the
three muggles who has a potential to lord over the Dark Lord with their
list of demands; his bloated tyrant Uncle Vernon, his vain crude Aunt
Petunia and forever serving his limbs as a punching bag to his burly
cousin, Dudley.
Harry Potter crouched over the entrance of his so-called home and
swiped the morning newspaper in his hand. The sound of his aunt
smothering over her overgrown son could make anyone sick to their
stomach.
“Does my Dudleykins want more pancakes? My popkin are growing to be a
handsome young boy already! Yes-you-are,” Petunia Dursley wet sloppy kisses
echoed from the kitchen.
“For god sakes, Petunia! He‘s a big boy. He’s going to be a young man
soon, aren‘t you m‘boy?” Vernon Dursley beamed proudly and ran his
podgy fingers through his son’s blonde hair. Then, Mr Dursley stuffed strips bacon
into his son's small mouth. Dudley didn't refuse.
“I know but he’s still my sweet ickle Dudleykins!” she smiled brightly
at Dudley, who was too engrossed by the nutrient contents of the
cereal box. Petunia plopped new stacks of pancakes on her son’s plate
and kissed the top of his head dotingly.
The almost nauseated Harry kept his composure when he closed the door.
Seriously, can this be anymore way to bring a man down? He spied at the
kitchen from afar.
Still sitting on their bums.
Harry pushed his glasses on the rim of his nose and briefly schemed through the
front page. His mind boggled with surprise when the large
disturbing pictures from the sudden earthquake. Not to mention the
number of bodies found and missing. Strange. Harry knew that this was not just
an earthquake. The same thing happened just yesterday.
“You better not read the papers or there will be no breakfast for you, Potter!” his aunt shouted.
He pulled out his tongue and continued reading. This wasn‘t the first
time that attacks like this had appeared this week. He stood in the
dark corner of the room, consumed in his thoughts.
It can't be the Death Eaters...?
“What in the bloody takes you so long to bring in the paper!” Vernon
roared and got out of his chair. The sound of the screeching chair legs
and thundering footsteps alarmed Harry to roll up the newspaper and
calmly headed inside the kitchen.
Vernon stopped halfway and yanked the paper out from Harry’s hand; his
eyes watched him cautiously and threateningly. The chilly silence attracted young Dudley and he took a sudden interest of what
his father’s going to do or say to his scrawny weird cousin. He smiled
gleefully.
“You’re reading the papers again, boy.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Don’t you dare lie to me, Potter. I know because it’s bloody crumpled!” Vernon unrolled it and shook it infront of his nephew.
Harry pursed his lips to protest but decided not to. Dudley
spooned in his cereal and eyed at his mother with a glint of mischief.
Petunia stood beside her husband, her arms crossed and her nose stuck
up high. “Not only he’s an orphan but a liar as well. I always knew
that bad blood comes from his father.”
Harry’s veins boiled with fury. He growled, “You don’t know my father.”
“I thank God for His kind mercy upon me and my family. You should be kissing our feet for
what we've suffered when you're left in front of our beautiful home!”
Dudley grunted and sipped in his orange juice. Harry wished that the
pulp just choke the living out of his cousin for good. He turned away
and controlled his anger.
Without a minute to spare, Uncle Vernon cleared his throat and pointed to the stairs. “Go to your room, Potter.”
“Gladly.” Harry happily replied and turned his heels.
“And you‘re grounded without food for two weeks!” barked Petunia.
He stood on the steps and clawed on the wooden banister. Harry stomped
his way to his room and slammed his door. Hedwig stirred from her sleep
in the cage and whistled softly. He murmured an apology to his
feathered friend.
Harry paced around his room.
Why do they have to bring in his dead parents in his life? Why do they insult them as they please?
He was too infuriated and too depressed that he can strangle something.
He heard Petunia screaming from below to keep quiet. Harry took
off his glasses and placed it on the bedside table. He laid on
his belly and covered his head under his pillows until he
fell into slumber.
Somewhere in the evening, his eyes snapped open and listened to his
stomach grumbled from hunger. Harry pulled his weight out of the bed and
slipped his glasses back on and took out his quill, ink bottle and parchments. He must not
think of food and he must be used to it by now.
A few minutes scratching his news away, two envelopes were addressed to his school mates,
Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley. He carried Hedwig out from her cage
and attach the letters with strings to her feet.
“One’s for Ron and the other’s for Hermione.” He fed her with owl
treats and opened the window as quietly as he could. The bird nuzzled
to his hand and took off and disappeared into the darkness.
With a heavy frown, he sat on the edge of the bed and waited. He patted his stomach and stared blankly at the damanged table.
---
[To Ron]
Dear Ron,
How are you doing? How’s your family
doing? Heard anything new from the Order lately? As I’ve written in my
last letter, the accidents are no longer accidental, if you know what I
mean. I hope there’s nothing devastating going on with you at the
Burrow.
By the way, the Dursleys decided to
give me their annual ground-the-Potter treatment because I’ve read the
newspaper. Mate, if it’s not much to ask but could you send me some
food? Anything would do. I’m practically starving.
Thanks and send my regards to your family.
Yours,
Harry.
P/S: I‘m sending a letter to Hermione too, just to see if there‘s anything on her side.
[/To Ron]
---
[To Hermione]
Dear Hermione,
How are you doing? I’m grounded for
two weeks. Now, before you’re going to lecture me on my behaviour but
let me just say this that I’m doing what I’m doing for my own purposes.
So, if reading the newspaper is a crime, then, I’m guilty. Is there
anything happening at your place? Are you safe?
Anyway, Hermione. I need a favour to
ask from you. If you wouldn’t mind send me the Daily Prophet? Only the
important clippings? I don’t want the heavy bulk or not the Dursleys
are going to chain Hedwig to the pound.
Thanks a million, Hermione.
Yours,
Harry.
P/S: I’ve sent Ron an owl too.
[/To Hermione]
---
[OOC: As I've mentioned in Ginny's journal,
I'm bringing both of my characters back to the beginning of HBP. As you
can see, Harry's grounded for two weeks on the morning after the bridge
collapsed and many muggles, wizards bodies were found and such, so that
means that Harry'll receive an owl from Dumbledore on the 9th of July
which is in two weeks. I hope that makes sense. Just to keep the plot
moving. So anyways, if there's questions about the plot and the time
line or whichever you feel that you want to push Harry in (this is for the RPers who I'm RPing at the moment), take a look
at the calendar, e-mail me at seventhweasley@yahoo.co.uk or leave a comment. I'm open to any suggestions.
Calendar
I'm currently plotting with Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger and Ginny Weasley
Have a nice day. :]
-D] | | |
| Whatever the feelings may be or was, there will be no union between me
and her. It's not my fault that ever waking day, I do wish to inhale
the sweet scent from her autumn hair, trace the fraility of skin
against my fingertips, blanket myself around her warmth and greed over
her as she was once belonged to me. No man can love her more than me. I am after all, a human.
Why does my fortunate curse of fate have to end our masterpiece this way? Why
can't I look adoringly at her like I used to without hiding? Nay, I will not obey my childish needs to cling upon
something that I've clearly set aside. I will not burden her with my
duties, not to mention, my weary troubles. No. She will not be part of
this. I'd rather die than seeing her die again in my arms.
Where will I find the last piece in the puzzle? Should I just flee this
very night and never to leave a note of farewell or even conjure a
charm in order to keep their overprotective mannerisms away? Tempted, I
am. But what do I know anything of magic? I'm just a boy who has the
"coincidences" which lead myself to survive this very day?
Dumbledore's passing, Sirius's death, what more does it take for me to
lose my mind? I am coming of age but why does it feel as if I already
had when I knew I was a wizard?
She passed by my bed to hand a package to her brother. Dear Godric,
keep my mind at the real matter than my own lust. Why can't we stop
stealing glances and let the pass edge away? Do I question myself this
much lately? I wish...just wish that she just stay be my side and
embrace me to sleep.
What would I do for a bludger to smack the back of my head right now...
| | |
| [ooc: Thank you to a few of you and your heartwarming comments in the
last entry, I truly appreciated it to the bottom of my pink daisies and
rainbow soul.
Although to some, those blundering peons, leaving me to wash off their delightful pint sized brains over here together over with Ginny.
Of course, I know that Ginny's name was Ginevra, morons. JK Rowling
confirmed her real name just last year, so allow for me to shove
a finger at your face. It's your own mistake that your wasted bodily
function so called eyes didn't notice when those entries was written. It was two years ago, know-it-alls.
Anyway, leaving the past behind at that, I'm here to announce that I
semi-back from the crypt. I truly missed my old gang, in which
unfortunately, I've lost contact for this years Although, somehow, I
felt that I'm not opt to comment over their journals. They've probably
forgotten about me and I understand that completely. Maybe I could, for
the old time sakes. In OOC version that is. Or if they somehow saw this
update, I just wanted to say;
"Hello, darlings! How are you doing? Everything's good and missing you
so muchly! Are you in a good RP with Harry and Ginny positions open? If
not, no worries. I'm still good."
I haven't written any plot as of late but I'll think of something very soon. Check y'all later.]
| | |
| [OOC: Back from the long hiatus. But sadly, Ginny and Harry left the ring and going on solo. We still be updating but it's going to be a slow process. So anyway, enjoy our new season!]
He continued walking, the closer he gets to the Ravenclaw tower, the more infuriated he became. He blamed Michael for everything, maybe this is a misunderstanding, maybe it’s him all along.
“Oof!” he was pushed into a dark room. He heard a small mischievous laughter, everything went by so fast, all he could tell in that moment is the hard rush of kisses on his lips -- restraining him from thinking straight. “I miss you…” she said and muzzle onto his stammering lips. As angry as he should be, he fell into a daze, blinded by her caresses, her smell, and her intoxicating heat. He’d completely forgotten what he came to see her for but slowly, he gained back his present state and stopped responding. Eventually, she got the message and pulled herself back. “What’s the matter, Harry?” she recollects herself.
“Were you with Corner last night?” said Harry, bitterly. It’s difficult to tell see if she heard him, the silence intimated him. He pulls his wand out from his pocket, raised it above their heads, and chanted “Lumos!” crossly. Right, he can see her now; her mortified face. In Harry’s expectation, if she did snagged a bloke, at least she could do was to lie to him; making him believe that what Ginny had said to him was a practical joke all along. But she didn’t, she sighed and dropped on the ground, putting her face in her hands. “I’m sorry, Harry….” she sobbed. He couldn’t help but rolled his eyes in irritation, “Why, Cho? Why?”. “Cedric…” she gazed at him, tear-eyed, “I know that you wouldn’t want to listen about him…”
Harry didn’t pity her for feeling so strongly for the guy, he punished himself for letting Cedric died and making her miserable. Yes, he doesn’t want to listen to those things any more. He had lost so many people in his life and bringing them back into the present would weakened his will to survive. She doesn’t know how difficult it has been for him to forget the everyday terror, the sound of one last breath, and the sense of isolation. “Corner was the only one there when I needed someone…” she stuttered. “Oh?” Harry grumbled and continued with a sarcastic tone, “If it was Flitwick, you would just snagged him just because he was the only one there?”. “Don’t make fun of me, Harry.” Cho proclaimed, hiding her embarrassment in her long dark silky hair. “I am not.” He gripped his fists tightly. Of all people, why does she have to make him feel like this? “You should know better, Cho.” He turn around and click his heel firmly, “I trusted you.”
He left her in the cold darkness. He pounded his way outside to the school courtyard, inhaling the bitter snow. Abruptly, he kicked the snow angrily. He didn’t know what to do but was entirely mad at everyone. | | |
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