Profile
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| User: | crazy_fangirl (4297269) When fangirls attack
Stop screaming dammit |
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| Name: | the flying hampster of inevitable doom | |||||||
| Birthdate: | 08-24 | |||||||
| LJ Talk: |
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| Bio: | OMG I AM A HARRY POTTER LOSER. Stolen from Cassie Claire: Draco. -Is about half an inch shorter than Harry, but has better posture, so no one ever notices this except for him. He developed this posture in order than no one would ever notice this except for him. -Has had a lifelong ambition to get really fat. He once spent an entire summer eating Jelly Slugs and trying to not to move, but he seems to be unable to gain weight. - Tried to memorize the Malfoy Family Code of Conduct once. Got stuck between Malfoys should not write love letters, but are not prohibited from receiving them, ideally in bulk and Malfoys can not have red hair. - Sleeps on his back with his arms crossed over his chest and sometimes has nightmares about being buried alive, although not since June. -Has used the telepathic gifts of his Magid powers only to talk to Harry in his head and to find him when he needs him. He has never tried to read his thoughts, although he's wondered often if he could. He would like to try but is afraid of what he might find out. - Inexplicably finds himself unable not to let red-headed girls boss him about. - Once got Seamus Finnigan down on the ground and banged on his head with a teakettle. They were both five. - Realized when he was fifteen that he had never kissed a girl and sent an emergency owl to Pansy, saying, Meet me behind the Quidditch shed. She spent the rest of Potions class smirking at him and by the time she did find him behind the shed he had lost interest in kissing her. He wound up sharing his first kiss with Padma Patil during an inter-house game of Spin the Bottle. She giggled into his mouth and tasted of butterbeer. It was nice enough but he never talked to her again. After that he went on a fearsome kissing spree through Slytherin and Ravenclaw. Even Madam Rosmerta did not escape unscathed. -Likes his scars. He has four now: the one on his left hand, the one under his eye, the arrow scar on his shoulder, and one on his ankle where he was bitten by a hellhound when he was seven; it's a long story and he rarely thinks about it. - Kept a lock of Hermione's hair that she gave him at the end of sixth year. He put it in the back of his watch and it broke the mechanism. - Has two birthmarks. The second is a tiny constellations of light freckles on the inside bend of his right elbow. Sometimes he draws on it during class, connecting the dots. On the occasions when he is forced to sit behind Ron he has to restrain himself from doing the same to the back of Ron's neck. - Hates: Cucumbers, Hufflepuffs, dancing, favoritism shown to anyone other than himself, Crookshanks, ferret jokes, the fact that he still gets so nervous before matches against Gryffindor that he invariably throws up beforehand, his father. Loves: Flying, Jelly Slugs, house-elf croquet, making Harry laugh, fencing practice, kissing and anything else he's fairly good at, favoritism shown to himself, bad romance novels, his father. - Has two earliest memories. The first is of his mother; she sang him lullabies in French when he was a baby: Ma chandelle est morte, je n'ai plus de feu/Ouvre-moi ta porte, pour l'amour de Dieu. He remembers the tunes now, but only a few of the words. He thinks they were sad songs. The second memory is of his father, pushing a finger into his mouth, prying his teeth apart, trying to get him to drink something, "Open your mouth, Draco." A taste like rotting peaches. "There, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Later, a white face bending down over him, a thin finger pulling back the blanket around his face, "I'd thought he would have been a bit larger than this, Lucius." "He's a child, my Lord. They tend to be that size." - Has a locked box next to his bed. In the box are: a pearl that fell from a broken necklace, a length of torn ribbon, a folded parchment map, a leather strap wound through a metal grommet, a dried yellow flower, a letter written in scented pink ink, a bent iron nail stained with blood, a twig from his father's old school broomstick, and a broken shard of adamantine from a destroyed door. - Ten things DT Draco doesn't like about Harry: - He still won't lose at Quidditch, goddammit. - Ron. - Ron. - The way he doesn't look at you when you're talking to him. - Harry borrowed your green jumper and got broomstick polish all down the front. - He can't hold his liquor. - You suspect you'll disappoint him in the end. - He's nice to people who don't deserve it. - He smiles like that at everybody, not just you. - Ron. - Ten things DT Draco does like about Harry: - The Dursleys never fixed his teeth properly, so he has a chipped canine on the upper left hand side of his mouth. It gives his smile an endearing, off-kilter quality. - He'd never fly less than his best to let you win. He'd never let you win at anything because he trusts you can win on your own. - The fact that he's not such a goody-goody after all. - He can't hold his liquor. - When he's thinking, he pulls his sleeves down over his hands and chews on his knuckles through them, even though it's a slightly disgusting habit and means his cuffs are always frayed because now you know how they got that way. - He's a great accessory. His dark hair complements your light coloring. Your hands match up exactly; your fingers are the same length, palms the same size. - He's never forgiven you for anything you've done; you hate being forgiven for things. Instead he's just accepted them and now they don't matter. He's never wanted you to be sorry. - He isn't as good a fencer as you are. In the end, you'll always be better. - He'd never leave you, would he? *** Harry... Finds himself forgetting things that he thought he would never forget. The specific smell of cabbage in the Dursley’s kitchen, the way Uncle Vernon would grab Harry by the back of the neck sometimes when he was drunk and shake him like a rat, the sift of dusty light through the small window in the door to the cupboard under the stairs. Clothes that were too big and blankets that were too small. He worries that he is spoiled now, that he will forgot the injustices that should fill him with rage and fuel the anger that every hero needs. He used to worry that perhaps he was too happy, although he doesn’t worry that so much anymore. Hates the Manor. It’s too big and too grand and he feels lost inside it. Everything is cold and beautiful and sharp-edged or old and remote and dusty. He never wanted to live in a place like this. He wanted a small and quiet house or a flat in London, something full of light and entirely lacking in cupboards. Likes sitting behind Hermione in class because he likes the way her slender shoulderblades poke through the thin material of her school blouse and the fact that she concentrates so hard that even when he drops things down the back of her shirt she doesn’t notice until after class is over and she stands up. Tried to keep a diary once but he could never think of anything to write in it. He came to the conclusion that his life was surprisingly boring. Dreams sometimes that he is dead and can no longer affect anything in the world. These dreams used to frighten him but now he finds them comforting. Has no plans for his own future. Beyond his one great destined task, Voldemort’s defeat, he has absolutely no idea what he will do with the rest of his life, assuming he has a rest of his life. Ideas come to him in flashes sometimes: he could buy a house, he could travel the world, he could get married, he could play Quidditch, he could hide out at the Manor until he feels capable of facing the world. None of the ideas seem real. Secretly thinks he isn't a very good Quidditch captain: he gets so impatient with his team, why can't they see what he means, why can't they just do it? Can't they understand how the game ought to be played, why do they fly so slowly? Dislikes: Being stared at, fighting with Ron, swimming, cold weather, wondering what other people think of him (he always assumes it's bad), not being able to ever go up and talk to Draco in public like they were friends, especially the fact that this doesn't seem to bother Draco the way it bothers him, Crookshanks (he just doesn't like that cat, but he'd never say so), the fact that he runs all his words together when he's nervous, pumpkin juice (He's sick of it.) Likes: that Hermione comes to all his practices even though she loathes Quidditch, Chocolate Frogs, his old Puddlemere United shirt, the fact that he's a half inch taller than Draco and that Draco seems to think he hasn't noticed this, getting into snowball fights with Ron, that he has a shelf on a closet in the Burrow where Molly has kept all the clothes he has outgrown, his old sweaters and shirts, as if he had been a real child once with parents who could not bear to part with his things. Sometimes misses some Muggle things. Certain comic books, Polo mints, movies, portraits that don't watch you. Feels guilty for missing them. Wonders what it would be like to rejoin the Muggle world after all this time: he would be hopelessly out of step now, the Boy That Time Passed By. Had his first kiss with Ginny, actually, at the Burrow over Christmas. It was pleasant aside from the fact that Ginny told him it felt as if she were kissing her brother and that Harry spent several days positive that Ron would find out and break both his legs. Had a bad habit of biting his fingernails. Took to pulling his sleeves over his hands to stop himself but now he just chews through the sleeves. Snuck into the prefect's bathroom with Ron one year and filled the tub with multicolored tropical fish. Fred and George were blamed. Favorite things about the way he looks: the color of his eyes, the shape of his hands, the scar on his palm. Least favorite things about the way he looks: his hair, the bones of his wrists are too big, his elbows stick out, his feet turn in. Is afraid of his own capabilities. Knows he could kill without a second thought. He could kill Voldemort. He could kill Lucius Malfoy. He would like to kill them both. He wonders what it means that his destiny is to be a murderer. He wonders why everyone seems to think this makes him a good person. Wonders what it would be like to always have been loved. Realizes that Ron knows this answer to this, but feels stupid asking. He had thought that Draco would know, but now he realizes that Draco has no more idea than he does. Sometimes they are so alike it scares him. Sometimes they are so different it seems like a chasm he can never cross. Ten things DT! Harry dislikes about Draco Malfoy: Draco never forgets that they used to hate each other. Harry forgets often, but it’s always there in Draco’s eyes, I used to hate you, and you used to hate me. Draco never puts anything behind him. Every slight, injustice and carelessness is tallied and kept inside his head. Harry suspects that Draco thinks he is boring and somewhat predictable. Draco needs money too much. He has no idea how to live without it. He is spoiled down to his bones and it makes him fragile. He is not scrappy, he is not resilient. He could never be persuaded to live a limited life. Draco is better at fencing than Harry and he knows it. Draco never, ever asks for help from Harry, even when Harry wants to give it. Even when Harry entertains reprehensible fantasies about putting Draco in positions where he’d have to ask for help, just to see if he’d do it, Harry has a feeling he wouldn’t. Draco still thinks pure wizarding blood is better. Draco isn’t careful enough when he’s playing Quidditch; he so badly wants to win that it’s all he thinks about. He flies like he thinks he’s immortal; he ends games wringing wet with sweat and bloody from Bludgers and flying too close to the stands. Harry’s sure he’ll bash his head in one of these days. That Draco hated Harry for all those years (Harry conveniently choosing to forget in this instance that the hatred was mutual) and thereby deprived them both of six years they could otherwise have spent being friends. Harry thinks of all the ways Draco actually needed him during those years and it makes him bitter that he wasn’t there. He thinks of Draco’s father and it makes him even more bitter. Sometimes he worries that Draco has been so badly damaged that he is unfixable and sometimes he thinks he is remarkably unscathed considering. Sometimes he still makes Harry jealous. Harry can only imagine what it must be like to look like that (he thinks that standing next to Draco he is probably very plain-looking if not actually ugly), to know how to talk like that and walk like that and dress like that and affect that air of constant unconcern that is like a beautiful armor against the slings and arrows of normal adolescent awkwardness. He wonders what it would be like to really not care what anyone thinks of you, to never wonder if you sound stupid or trite, to always say the right thing at the right time, to lie like an angel and tell the devil’s own truth. To know when things are beautiful without having to be told. The way that he looks at Harry as if Harry is the one thing that matters most in the world, and it isn’t the way that Dumbledore does, or even the way Hermione does, it’s a bittersweet backwards sort of revelation and Harry knows that he doesn’t deserve it, that even if he kills Voldemort, even if he saves the world in general and Draco in particular, in this one last and important specific he can never live up to what is expected of him. Ten things DT Harry does like about Draco Malfoy: Draco knows things. Strange, esoteric bits of knowledge he’s picked up through reading for fun: random phrases in foreign languages (he can count to ten in Dutch, request sexual favors in Icelandic, and say “I rob banks for a living, and you?” in Italian) lists of illegal spells, names of plants and flowers, peculiar details of wizarding history, fencing techniques, Quidditch statistics. Draco is never, ever boring. That he is irresponsible with his charm, as profligate with it as he is with his money. That he flirts irresponsibly, and Harry knows that this is an immoral thing to do, to flirt with people you have no real interest in or who are occupied elsewhere, but there's a lovely wastefulness to it, a There's always more where that came from. He opens doors he has no intention of either walking through or closing and accountability slips through his fingers like water. Harry likes to watch, knowing he is safe; this irresponsibility does not apply to him. That Draco never tells Harry things just to make him feel better. If he says things aren’t that bad, then they’re not that bad. He has no idea how brave he is. he once spent an entire afternoon trying to teach Harry how to raise one eyebrow and only made fun of him a little bit when he couldn’t do it. Aesthetics matter to Draco; they move him the way emotions have always moved Harry. Watching Draco’s reactions has taught Harry the secret language of beautiful things: the sharpness of sunlight on water, the singularity of musical notes, Hermione’s white gloves against her black Christmas dress, the gold streak of a hurtling Snitch, the colors in the moving portraits on the castle walls, the way torchlight makes everything soft. He likes the way Draco’s face goes quiet when he looks at what he loves; he likes that Draco looks at him like that. Harry loves watching Draco waste things; there is something exciting to him in his friend's profligacy. He likes the way Draco throws away food after a few bites, never counts his change, would rather discard clothes than pay for them to be mended. That he is a surprisingly good teacher. He is unfailingly patient, he is rarely sarcastic, he does not mind repeating things, he has a gift for imagery that keeps the instruction from ever being boring or unclear. Harry would not want to learn fencing from anyone else. Almost everyone in Harry's life has turned out to be predicatably bad or predictably good. Draco is not predictable at all. He is not even, like Snape, predictably nasty. He's chaos, and Harry likes chaos in the same way that he is also afraid of it. He is also learning that there is no such thing as controlled chaos, and that in fact there are some things in life that you cannot control, and that are better for it. ***  Draco/Ginny is forbidden love | |||||||
| Interests: | 81: alessandra sunk, androgyny, anger, audrey hepburn, bad boys, beauty, beethoven, being a fangirl, being crazy, birthdays, black, cassandra claire, claire de lune, courtney love, dark stuff, dead dolls, death, draco malfoy, dreamy, eating food, eyeliner, fairy tales, fall, fan art, fan fiction, fishnets, fred weasley, fur elise, geena, george weasley, ginny weasley, green, gryffindor, happiness, harry potter, heat, hello kitty, hot pink, hufflepuffs suck, icons, incest, layouts, leaves, life, lipgloss, lord of the rings, lotr, moonlight, moonlight sonata, motorcycles, moulin rouge, movies, nirvana, perfection, princess ai, ravenclaw, red lipstick, ron weasley, rooney, roses, slash, slytherin, snow, soundtracks, spiderman, spiders, spring, stars, striptease, summer, sunlight, the beautiful letdown, the dreamers, the vines, thirteen, tiffany's, trees, vans, velvet revolver, wanderlust, winter | |||||||
| Schools: | None listed | |||||||
| Friends: |
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| Friend of: | 2: bakaxtenshi, judsywinkle | |||||||
| Member of: | 2: dracotrilogy, ginny_n_draco | |||||||
| Account type: | Basic Account | |||||||
