A celebration of sorts...
May. 2nd, 2005 08:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skoosiepantsBut really, I'm just looking at some old discs.
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dirtytrousers has hit over a 100 pages! *does The Robot* And I'm less than a week into it, in case you haven't noticed. It's only friday, and it started on a Saturday. Wow. This is panning out to be somewhat Long-hidden Skies-ish, in which I'm only about four days in and it's over a 100 pages (I think). Anywho, I'm having fun, so that's what counts!
And now, onto old discs. Anyone up for some deleted Don't Let's Start? Yes, that's right, I threw out a couple scenes I didn't like, and went in completely different directions. Fun, eh?
The defunct meeting between Draco and Das
The hairy beast looked to be a cross between a grim and a bear, shaggy and huge and now loping straight towards him, its teeth bared. Draco was frozen to the spot, mouth clamped shut in an effort not to cry out. And then it seemed to have spotted the boys playing in the grass not far from where he was standing, and abruptly shifted directions, its massive paws eating up the ground at a furious pace.
Draco didn’t stop to think. With a shout of warning, he jumped in front of the twins and reached for his wand, tucked into the back of his jeans. But the creature took a flying leap, front paws landing heavily on his chest, knocking the breath from his lungs and the slender length of wood from his hand. He stumbled backwards, tripped, then a blinding pain shot through his skull and everything went black.
His edges were blurred when he cracked open his eyelids, and Ron was looking down at him, concern etched across his face.
“Malfoy, are you all right?”
“No,” Draco croaked, wincing. “What the hell was…?” He trailed off, spotting the black beast over Ron’s shoulder, a dark pink tongue lolling out of its mouth, drool flecking its muzzle. His breath hitched. “Weasley…” he started tentatively.
Ron shot a glance behind him, then grinned down at the blond. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just the boys’ Newfoundland.”
“Newfoundland?” Draco asked warily.
“A dog,” the redhead clarified, then called the canine forward, digging his fingers into the thick fur around its neck. “Das, meet Malfoy. Malfoy, meet Dastardly.”
The dog let out a deep, rumbling woof, practically grinning at him with his furry maw, and Draco scowled. “He attacked me,” he spat out.
“No, he greeted you,” Ron amended. “Your face was properly bathed in saliva while you were unconscious.”
The blond pulled a face, lifting his hand to touch a sticky cheek. “Should have known it was your pet, Weasley. No manners at all.”
Ron merely smiled at him, holding a hand out to help him up. He’d seen the ex-Slytherin throw himself in the path of Das so the dog couldn’t reach his sons. To Ron, that spoke volumes.
Reluctantly, Draco took the offered hand and got to his feet, a palm rubbing the back of his head gingerly, feeling just a tad dizzy. “Must’ve hit a rock,” he muttered. He luckily didn’t feel any stickiness that signaled blood, but an egg shaped lump had formed just behind his left ear. “Stupid mutt.” Turning to walk back up the yard, another wave of dizziness washed over him with the abrupt movement, along with a dull throb in his skull, and he paused, swaying slightly.
Ron stepped forward and grabbed his arm. “What’s wrong?”
“How long was I out for?”
“Few seconds.” He stared at Malfoy, watching as the man’s complexion darkened to a pasty gray. “You’re not going to be sick, are you?”
The blond took several deep breaths, eyes closed. “Maybe,” he said weakly.
“Can you walk?”
Draco shot him a half-arsed sneer, but didn’t answer.
“Well, either you walk or I’ll have to carry you.” Ron couldn’t help grinning at the pained look on the ex-Slytherin’s face, despite the situation.
“I can walk,” Draco snarled, then swallowed thickly.
***
“He’s a good guard dog. Takes care of the boys,” he said affectionately. “A nanny of sorts, like the dog in Peter Pan.”
Draco gazed at him incredulously.
“Peter Pan?” Ron prompted. “You know, the story about the boy who never—“
“I know what Peter Pan is, you idiot,” Draco cut in. “You have a dog for a nanny?”
“No,” Ron answered, scowling now. “He’s just good at watching them while I work. I can’t just leave them alone, can I?” Dastardly barked, as if agreeing with him, and Ron obligingly scratched behind his ears.
“So you leave them with a dog?”
“They’re always within sight, Malfoy,” he said, frustrated, “and I don’t know why I’m defending my parenting skills to you.”
“Because you know I’m right, and can’t stand admitting it,” Draco said smugly.
If I'd gone the long way around to the ending
“Er… not exactly.” He looked slightly puzzled. “Hasn’t she written you at all?”
“Why would she write me, Potter?” Draco asked, agitated and a little sick to his stomach. “She’s dead.”
“Sorry, Malfoy,” Colin put in, looking sincerely apologetic. “We thought for sure she’d contacted you.”
“I buried her, for fuck’s sake. Of course she’s not going to contact me,” Draco near yelled.
Harry grimaced, and Colin sent him a side-long look that clearly said ‘we fucked that up.’
Finally, Draco said, very slowly, “My mother is alive.”
If Jem had actually gotten hurt
Draco was a morose and sullen drunk. Hermione never would have guessed that about him. Violent, most likely. Giddy, possibly, although the thought of a happy, giggling Malfoy was minutely disturbing. But soppy? That just didn’t seem like Draco at all.
“What on earth are you doing, Malfoy?” she demanded after stumbling out of the hearth to find him slumped on the couch, a half-empty bottle of firewhiskey in front of him. Dastardly was squished in between the coffee table and the sofa, his large head resting on Draco’s knee.
Blaise whistled. “It’s rank in here mate. Let’s open a window, shall we?”
“Iss fine,” Draco slurred, eyes watering, then went on to mumble something that sounded like, ‘I killed Jem.’
Hermione’s eyes widened. “You did what?”
“Das s’ill loves me, don’ cha boy? E’en though…”
Blaise nudged her arm. “You’ll never get anything out of him like this, pet.”
“Oh, for the love of…” She drew out her wand and pointed it at the blond man, quickly performing a minor sobering charm. It wouldn’t make him stone-cold lucid, but it would help. “Now, tell me exactly what happened,” she said, dropping down next to him on the couch.
Draco straightened up and shoved Dastardly away, scowling at Hermione, but before he could say a word the hearth flared to life again and Ron stepped out, one little boy wrapped in his arms, the other clutching his trousers, his face red and swollen from a fairly heavy crying jag.
The second Beans spotted Draco he cried out and hurled himself onto his lap, burrowing his face into his shirt.
And that's all for now folks. Luff and smooches.
dirtytrousers has hit over a 100 pages! *does The Robot* And I'm less than a week into it, in case you haven't noticed. It's only friday, and it started on a Saturday. Wow. This is panning out to be somewhat Long-hidden Skies-ish, in which I'm only about four days in and it's over a 100 pages (I think). Anywho, I'm having fun, so that's what counts!And now, onto old discs. Anyone up for some deleted Don't Let's Start? Yes, that's right, I threw out a couple scenes I didn't like, and went in completely different directions. Fun, eh?
The defunct meeting between Draco and Das
The hairy beast looked to be a cross between a grim and a bear, shaggy and huge and now loping straight towards him, its teeth bared. Draco was frozen to the spot, mouth clamped shut in an effort not to cry out. And then it seemed to have spotted the boys playing in the grass not far from where he was standing, and abruptly shifted directions, its massive paws eating up the ground at a furious pace.
Draco didn’t stop to think. With a shout of warning, he jumped in front of the twins and reached for his wand, tucked into the back of his jeans. But the creature took a flying leap, front paws landing heavily on his chest, knocking the breath from his lungs and the slender length of wood from his hand. He stumbled backwards, tripped, then a blinding pain shot through his skull and everything went black.
His edges were blurred when he cracked open his eyelids, and Ron was looking down at him, concern etched across his face.
“Malfoy, are you all right?”
“No,” Draco croaked, wincing. “What the hell was…?” He trailed off, spotting the black beast over Ron’s shoulder, a dark pink tongue lolling out of its mouth, drool flecking its muzzle. His breath hitched. “Weasley…” he started tentatively.
Ron shot a glance behind him, then grinned down at the blond. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just the boys’ Newfoundland.”
“Newfoundland?” Draco asked warily.
“A dog,” the redhead clarified, then called the canine forward, digging his fingers into the thick fur around its neck. “Das, meet Malfoy. Malfoy, meet Dastardly.”
The dog let out a deep, rumbling woof, practically grinning at him with his furry maw, and Draco scowled. “He attacked me,” he spat out.
“No, he greeted you,” Ron amended. “Your face was properly bathed in saliva while you were unconscious.”
The blond pulled a face, lifting his hand to touch a sticky cheek. “Should have known it was your pet, Weasley. No manners at all.”
Ron merely smiled at him, holding a hand out to help him up. He’d seen the ex-Slytherin throw himself in the path of Das so the dog couldn’t reach his sons. To Ron, that spoke volumes.
Reluctantly, Draco took the offered hand and got to his feet, a palm rubbing the back of his head gingerly, feeling just a tad dizzy. “Must’ve hit a rock,” he muttered. He luckily didn’t feel any stickiness that signaled blood, but an egg shaped lump had formed just behind his left ear. “Stupid mutt.” Turning to walk back up the yard, another wave of dizziness washed over him with the abrupt movement, along with a dull throb in his skull, and he paused, swaying slightly.
Ron stepped forward and grabbed his arm. “What’s wrong?”
“How long was I out for?”
“Few seconds.” He stared at Malfoy, watching as the man’s complexion darkened to a pasty gray. “You’re not going to be sick, are you?”
The blond took several deep breaths, eyes closed. “Maybe,” he said weakly.
“Can you walk?”
Draco shot him a half-arsed sneer, but didn’t answer.
“Well, either you walk or I’ll have to carry you.” Ron couldn’t help grinning at the pained look on the ex-Slytherin’s face, despite the situation.
“I can walk,” Draco snarled, then swallowed thickly.
***
“He’s a good guard dog. Takes care of the boys,” he said affectionately. “A nanny of sorts, like the dog in Peter Pan.”
Draco gazed at him incredulously.
“Peter Pan?” Ron prompted. “You know, the story about the boy who never—“
“I know what Peter Pan is, you idiot,” Draco cut in. “You have a dog for a nanny?”
“No,” Ron answered, scowling now. “He’s just good at watching them while I work. I can’t just leave them alone, can I?” Dastardly barked, as if agreeing with him, and Ron obligingly scratched behind his ears.
“So you leave them with a dog?”
“They’re always within sight, Malfoy,” he said, frustrated, “and I don’t know why I’m defending my parenting skills to you.”
“Because you know I’m right, and can’t stand admitting it,” Draco said smugly.
If I'd gone the long way around to the ending
“Er… not exactly.” He looked slightly puzzled. “Hasn’t she written you at all?”
“Why would she write me, Potter?” Draco asked, agitated and a little sick to his stomach. “She’s dead.”
“Sorry, Malfoy,” Colin put in, looking sincerely apologetic. “We thought for sure she’d contacted you.”
“I buried her, for fuck’s sake. Of course she’s not going to contact me,” Draco near yelled.
Harry grimaced, and Colin sent him a side-long look that clearly said ‘we fucked that up.’
Finally, Draco said, very slowly, “My mother is alive.”
If Jem had actually gotten hurt
Draco was a morose and sullen drunk. Hermione never would have guessed that about him. Violent, most likely. Giddy, possibly, although the thought of a happy, giggling Malfoy was minutely disturbing. But soppy? That just didn’t seem like Draco at all.
“What on earth are you doing, Malfoy?” she demanded after stumbling out of the hearth to find him slumped on the couch, a half-empty bottle of firewhiskey in front of him. Dastardly was squished in between the coffee table and the sofa, his large head resting on Draco’s knee.
Blaise whistled. “It’s rank in here mate. Let’s open a window, shall we?”
“Iss fine,” Draco slurred, eyes watering, then went on to mumble something that sounded like, ‘I killed Jem.’
Hermione’s eyes widened. “You did what?”
“Das s’ill loves me, don’ cha boy? E’en though…”
Blaise nudged her arm. “You’ll never get anything out of him like this, pet.”
“Oh, for the love of…” She drew out her wand and pointed it at the blond man, quickly performing a minor sobering charm. It wouldn’t make him stone-cold lucid, but it would help. “Now, tell me exactly what happened,” she said, dropping down next to him on the couch.
Draco straightened up and shoved Dastardly away, scowling at Hermione, but before he could say a word the hearth flared to life again and Ron stepped out, one little boy wrapped in his arms, the other clutching his trousers, his face red and swollen from a fairly heavy crying jag.
The second Beans spotted Draco he cried out and hurled himself onto his lap, burrowing his face into his shirt.
And that's all for now folks. Luff and smooches.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-02 05:34 pm (UTC)i love it NINE TIMES!
always interesting to see what couldve been....
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-03 05:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-02 05:40 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-03 05:19 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-02 08:36 pm (UTC)I think you were wise to go in the direction that you did, I like the story better without them even if they are very sweet scenes.
<3
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-03 05:20 am (UTC)And yeah, I don't like the direction these snippets were moving towards... too serious, I think.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-02 10:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-03 05:21 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-03 04:02 am (UTC)ooo! *celebrates with skoosie*
i know how that feels: i have a shared x-over of doom with a friend fic, and we fit one-o' seven yesterday.
(it really is an x-over from doom, it's got angel, buffy, hp, hellsing, CSI, and a whole bunch of original characters. lol, yeah. it's wild)
*luff and smooches back*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-03 05:21 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-03 07:59 am (UTC)Massive *hugs* for the Spot, girl. *grin*
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-03 11:02 am (UTC)And Spot! *dances*
~Elendil~
Date: 2005-05-03 08:22 am (UTC)"Never fear! Brooklyn is here!"
LOVE IT ALL! Can hardly wait for the update of DT!
Lovies!
~E
Re: ~Elendil~
Date: 2005-05-03 11:02 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-03 03:09 pm (UTC)less than a week into dirty trousers? is this what you meant to say because i, for one, am a bit confused. or maybe im just crazy... i wouldnt discount that. :0)
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-04 06:46 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-04 02:27 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-04 08:03 pm (UTC)Stick around here if you want, though :) We have lots of sparkly online disco parties and I occasionally drag myself away from Dirty Trousers long enough to write a one-shot or two *grins* I'm a bit inane and cracked, but it's all in good fun...
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-05 04:11 am (UTC)sparkly online disco parties? I'm so there!!! and one shots are awesome, they're my specialty!! woot. aiight. I suppose i'll live without Twilight for a while. i put it on my favs list so it's not goin anywhere. hmm...
okay. thanks a bunch.
(no subject)
Date: 2005-05-05 10:31 am (UTC)