Too Long; Did Read

HP as my genre

Tue, 24 Jun 2008 10:47:27 GMT

It is likely inadvisable to try and attempt to take a crack at this subject this early in the morning, especially when I don’t have quite enough time to expand on it. Then again, it might force me to just hammer something down without wibbling and or taking side trips.

In a nutshell, the Harry Potter fic fandom is to me as the sci-fi/fantasy genre is to me. I’ll read pretty much anything, so long as it isn’t along trope lines I dislike. I like some areas of it less than the others, just like with SF&F. Military/hard SF doesn’t usually catch hold of me from the first page and keep going, just like, say, it may take scrolling down a couple times for me to get into a typical Harry/Draco or Harry/Ginny story. And I’ll never get over my craving for fantasies with fairly complex political skullduggery (random plug: HELLO Holly Lisle! And Daniel Abraham. And Joshua Palmatier. And— okay, stopping there), just as I’ll never stop wanting HP fic that is substantially AU.

I don’t leave the HP fandom for the same reason I would never abandon SF&F. There’s a shared set of assumptions at work, and whether the list of them is tiny and some of the points are occasionally ignored, I am pretty much guaranteed to take a look at a good story written with those assumptions in mind.

And that is why I will never pin down a part or section of HP fandom and make my home there, even if I hang out in a specific region for a while. It would be like only ever reading sword and sorcery books for the rest of my life. And jesus christ, I can’t do that. I’d miss all kinds of good stuff.

NOTE: Above realization came about as a result of maddened thinking over the years as a HP fan. Dunno if this metaphor fits, but good god, it’s the first one that makes sense.

So. coughs What’s your genre in HP? Is it the entire fic space in the fandom, or a good chunk of it, or the canon-hugging camp, or the slash camp? I have an idea of how it feels like for other fans sometimes, but I really don’t know.

On retooling fandom participation

Fri, 20 Jun 2008 01:01:16 GMT

As part of my potential move back to LJ, I decided that I would take a long, hard look at my current LJ friendslist, pare it down mercilessly, and then look on and off LJ for communities that interested me. You know, HP-centric stuff, gen stuff, places with fic that I might like to read, and people I might like to talk to.

So far, I have mostly drawn a big, fat blank. Places I looked at fleetingly beforehand still have the same things wrong with them that caused me to pass over them before. Now, I've only looked for about half an hour, so I'm going to rant here for a bit and probably go back to looking. Because I cannot for the life of me understand why I would still want to write HP fic, but be unable to find anywhere to participate even as a lurker.

Maybe I'm being too picky? Then again, not being picky enough means I skim half my flist here and at LJ AND at JF, and don't read, much less click on, more than one link in the daily_prophet and hogwarts_daily newsletters on LJ. Ladies and gents, I am in a COLOSSAL rut here, so much so that I don't really have a clue where to look for HP stuff that I might be interested in. And LJ/IJ's decentralization isn't helping.

Also: I think I have outgrown pretty much every archive I used to frequent when I used to regularly read HP fic. Oh, Sycophant Hex, why did you stay so much the same :(((. Can you believe I used to trawl through Checkmated? Or click on random authors' names at Sugar Quill and FictionAlley? I've gotten way too cynical (or something else, god knows what) to do that now.

Last word: My problem here seems to be that I either read too widely AND too narrowly. I read widely in that I'll swallow pretty much any pairing, character, or setting if it's written well enough and I'm in the mood for it, and I read narrowly in that on most days, I won't click on even the promising links because their summaries sound like a copy of something that has been done to death, and read to death, by me.

Really the last word: Rec me communities anyone? ANYONE? And by "communities", I mean "anywhere that has more than five people posting, whether on LJ, IJ or the bloody moon". I also mean "places where they don't worship the epilogue, or JKR, or both". And possibly "places where they don't live and die by ships".

Okay seriously: No point in asking for help if I don't give out parameters for the search, eh? Okay. Used to like Snape a lot; have overeaten that meal. AU rocks my frigging boat so hard, but it can be hard to find ones that aren't a) Same Old Slash, b) Unseriously written, c) abandoned, d) rereads for me, or e) all of the above.
And really, that's pretty much it.

ETA: Edited to remove flock.
ETA: Edited again to add vague interests and shit.
ETA 3: Okay, DEFINITELY found one comm to watch: quibbler_report on LJ. And I found a fic through it that caught my eye, one that's right here on IJ! Maybe I won't have to move after all *g*

>.>

Thu, 19 Jun 2008 23:47:18 GMT

Not moving *yet*.

Going back to LJ on the weekend

Thu, 19 Jun 2008 08:59:03 GMT

I'd love to say the comment spam drove me away, or something feature-y like that, but it is:
a) that LJ just overhauled their policies, and
b) LJ's a bigger audience and a bigger pool in general for getting involved in the segment of HP fandom I'm thinking of getting back into.

There won't be any double posting, because it's stressful to do, and the last thing I need right now is stressed. I wish there was a better solution that wouldn't have me leaving data and friends and stuff all over the place, but there you go.

Random update

Wed, 14 May 2008 16:11:06 GMT

Haven't been around for a bit (dental work getting done + finals + starting work soon = BUSY AS HELL). But I'm alive, and collating links and info and stuff! Oh, and plotting AST, still. :D

Something that really caught my eye in my RSS reader today: this post at pmarca.com that talks about Ning and how Google's Friendconnect and Open Social projects will really boost the usefulness of Ning. If you don't know already, Ning is a site that allows you to make social networks for any reason or purpose, and gives you about the same functionality as facebook and myspace do, only with the fact that YOU own/run the network, and can customize it as you see fit. What Friendconnect and OpenSocial will do for Ning is basically allow people to let the users/members of their network flow from site to site and still retain the social context of the network they are part of.

Which, I think, is totally something fandom needs. Social context is huge in the LJ and general fandom space; being able to put in that social context by dropping in little blocks of code into pretty much any website will free us from the silo-like enclosures that even the best sites impose on us. Comments and commenter identity would be available to any site that decides to put in the Friendconnect comments block. And anyone and everyone could make their own website and link it back to everything just by putting in some snippets of code.

I think it's time I tried out Ning for myself, to see if this is workable. Because if it is, goodbye reliance on LJ/Wordpress/Myspace/Quizilla/Fanfiction.net; hello portable social information. :D

ETA: Test network up and running here: http://dexteri.ning.com/
Invite link/join link (I'm not sure which) here: http://dexteri.ning.com/?xgi=2pw3nys

Quick post: sighs

Fri, 02 May 2008 08:16:18 GMT

Rewrite is still on full steam ahead, despite interference of Paper O'Doom and finals and exams and a general feeling of really needing to just *stop*.

It has been a weird ride this week. I realized toward the end of last week, on Saturday, that I wasn't going to have to rewrite as drastically as I thought I needed to. That the framework I built in AST is pretty damn fine in places, and will support reuse.

Today, I first realized that I had a massive canon inconsistency, that the all-important first Flying Lesson isn't when it should be, and I still have no idea why I wrote it that way. I thought, okay, shift it, and move the surrounding scenes and so on elsewhere. Then I snagged on something and went back to my growing, rough timeline to hammer some details out, and ended up realizing that Antares probably shouldn't (needn't?) go to the Forbidden Forest for detention at all in AST, and so most of the chapter in which he ends up doing so will need to be heavily rewritten or just cut entirely.

I'm the one making the decisions. Cutting that chapter is a solid way for me to get closer to my rewriting goal(s), a major one of them being to try and make AST and AMF into one seamless story. It still hurts to think of cutting out that chapter, those events, that entire tiny sub-arc.

And just now, I've realized that, in light of my changes and goals, another sub-arc will need to go. It's the bit where Quirrell tries to make Antares do something or other after accusing him of cheating on his DADA exam. It's one of those bits that didn't make too much sense if you looked at it too closely in its original setting, and makes fuck all sense now. And yet...*clings momentarily, then cuts*.

Probably shouldn't have bothered commenting...

Fri, 25 Apr 2008 04:58:08 GMT

...but I couldn't help myself. This is about the whole Open Source Boobs thing, and if you haven't heard of it already, the only post you should probably bother reading is synecdochic's. The original post is just a seething cauldron of "but I *meant* well!" plus SKEEVEMASTER: THE ULTIMATE SKEEVENING, imho. I doubt I'll convince theferrett to even slightly modify his writing pattern, but dear gods, I've lost several hours of my life to reading about this. I had to say *something*. :P

Why it sucks to have your birthday in late april as a student:

Thu, 24 Apr 2008 15:53:38 GMT

You will most likely be
a) writing papers
b) taking exams
c) going through final season.

Ugh. But I'm 21 now, and I'm going to maybe go for drinks with a friend Friday night, and I am going to block myself out a week after the current semester ends to just do almost nothing :P

Items of Interest #2

Mon, 21 Apr 2008 03:19:08 GMT

[1] Have finally updated FF.net profile *collapses*
Well, okay, it wasn't *that* hard. I have to wonder whether I'm going to be eating some of the words I put on there (I always seem to end up doing that XD). Nevertheless, I go on.

[2] Have chosen Scrivener as my writing tool of choice for now, after long consideration and some tinkering with the software. I guess I realized I was freaking out over semantic HTML output (Scrivener spits out HTML 4.01 files, I think), and needlessly too, considering I STILL only really post to FF.net, and they're chill with old HTML and RTF, which Scrivener does just fine.

[3] Have been downloading way too many Wiki/HPL files into my Scrivener binder for reference purposes.

[4] Have been scrawling up tremendous amounts of backstory. I think I may finally have the 1980-1981 period covered as far as major events go. Sometime after my current semester ends, I am going to sit down and try and power through 1982-1991 *shudders*. The trick so far has been to make only rough notes, and worry about splitting stuff up into files and fleshing shit out (which Scrivener is really flexible about) later. WAY later.

[5] May have new series and story names for rewritten!AST hammered out. I'll sit on them until the end of this week and see what I think of them then, but yeah.

[6] Have sort of come to terms with the most annoying (well, to me) Deathly Hallow, the Elder Wand. *smiles triumphantly* Now, to do the other Hallows, and the Horcruxes...

MEME: >.>

Sun, 20 Apr 2008 14:25:01 GMT

Have got groove back

Sat, 19 Apr 2008 09:18:18 GMT

Now need to decide on where the hell to WRITE IT. Choosing between Scrivener and Textmate (with its super-adorable, super-useful Projects function, and Markdown goodness) is haaaaard. Maybe I should plot in Scrivener, and write in Textmate?

Otherwise, though, yes, I am rewriting AST. Still. May go into more detailed reasons later on, and will probably put up appropriate notice about it on FF.net, but main thing is:
THE BACKSTORY SUCKS. It needs to be beaten with a sledgehammer.
THE PLOT MAKES NO SENSE. I need to decide on what I want to do plotwise, and stick to it.
NO END IN SIGHT. I need an ending, dammit; I need a goal to write towards, and a place to stop at.
NEW CANON. As much as I hate some things about DH, I want all of the shiny in my fic.

Current plans/structure: Two stories. First one covering Antares' first and second year at Hogwarts, and the second one covering the years after. That's about as detailed as I can get; I'll be using similar elements to what is currently in AST, AMF and AFY, but I will be changing A LOT. I'm going to leave the current stories up as they are until I'm done with the first one, and then decide on where to put what and all that. I may end up renaming the universe to something less generic and posting the new stories alongside the old, and leaving the old ones up for everyone to see.

It took a long time to get here, to a place where I can say this and feel reasonably certain that this is what I want to do, but I'm here.

Ebooking once more

Sun, 23 Mar 2008 07:28:03 GMT

Yes, I know I started ficpdfs and let it languish. But that doesn’t necessarily mean things are always going to stay that way…I think :P

Today, though, I went out on a limb and decided to try cobbling a tiny ebook together out of one of my shorter, quasi-unfinished fics. I threw the united power of Textmate, Parallels, Mobipocket Creator, Markdown, CSS and the really rather helpful Mobipocket content generation guide at one short story, and these are the results:

Mobipocket (i.e., un-DRMed .prc file) download, first pass of editing. Here via Box.net.
- The good: You don’t know how tasty this looks on my Kindle, despite a few missed typos and that sort of thing :D.
- The bad: This is put together using a couple html files I made myself, for all intents and purposes. And I still missed niggling errors— I don’t want to imagine how time consuming it will be to error-check a longer source text.
  Also, I have to sort out the table of contents and the cover image so they look okay on my Kindle. The TOC chapter/part summaries need to be separated from the chapter links so that they’re easier to click when browsing with a device. And, I dunno, my image looks okay, but could look better.
HTML “download”, after second pass of editing. Here at my website for easy access.
- The good: Satisfying to make everything look pretty. Primitive but working (and prettyish) nav bars, yay.
- The bad: Again, thinking of sorting out longer works this way makes me shudder. I’m definitely going to do splits into shorter sections if possible— it’s just easier to work with that way, as Textmate, my text editor, tends to start choking when you feed it anything really long. And besides, you miss stuff editing even a short file.

Check both formats out (if possible, for the .prc) and let me know what you think.

Arrgh, Tor :(

Fri, 21 Mar 2008 11:16:35 GMT

This is one of those time's I'd just like to shake my fist in your face. What is UP with this trend of Tor having only one book of each author's work up as an ebook? Case in point, Tobias Buckell's Crystal Rain. A damn good book, and I was bloody happy to pay for it on Amazon.com. Naturally, of course, the sequel to it (Ragamuffin) isn't in paperback, and isn't an ebook. ARGH.

I don't want to buy books that aren't ebooks anymore, okay? I am NOT going to buy this one until it is an ebook, no matter how guaranteeably awesome it probably is. I am done with buying hardbacks for keeps, and paying $4 for the paperback at Half Price isn't going to magically create space on my shelf for the book, or lighten its weight when I need to move later this year, or early next year. I'm hoping that the fact that Ragamuffin isn't a paperback yet correlates to the fact that it isn't an ebook yet, either. Maybe I'll email Tor or Tobias himself and ask.

Items of Interest #1

Sat, 15 Mar 2008 16:34:40 GMT

[This is the sort of entry that happens when you are tired of thinking.]

LJ basic elimination:

Man, just…man. That rightly puts an end to my fledgling desire to move back— apparently Brad, i.e. 6A Brad on the advisory board, told them it wasn’t a good idea, and they went ahead and did it anyway. I.e., not promising as far as how much the advisory board can influence anything, so not worth crying over.

My plans as far as journalling now include trying out Tumblr for reals and learning enough PHP that I can produce something like Yong Fook’s lifestream thing, which pulls in posts from his Flickr, Twitter and Tumblr accounts (and maybe one I’m missing) and lays them out gorgeously, and does the comments for everything with Disqus. The way he’s set it up, backing up the database he uses to pull everything together will back up all the data he’s posted elsewhere, and that is neato neatest and I SO want to do it.

Also, I think I’ll go back to Generator for my IJ theme. I am SICK of the one I’ve got, it just rubs me wrong.

Book reviews:

Funny how I always find time to read even when I’m unhappy. It’s one of those things I’ve never really been able to deprive myself of.

Recently read in no order:

[1] First three books in Susan Matthews’ “Under Jurisdiction” universe.
- vague impressions: I really shouldn’t like this series so much. The writing is awkward, but then it’s meant to be. And god, what an awful, awful universe to live in. I’d never have thought I would consider Manna Frances’ Administration universe a more glamorous take on the very-very-repressive-government trope until reading these books. I think it’s half because of the huge difference between their antiheroes. One is a sociopath and a sadist; the other is just a sadist, if a painfully (and sometimes annoyingly) honorable one. I liked Toreth more, I have to admit— Koscuicko in too many doses is just boring after a while. And Manna definitely beats Matthews for mystery writing, and that helps. Oh, and there’s the absence of hot, well-written gay sex in Matthews’ universe. And that scintillating central relationship as well. :D
- good: Man, is Matthews a detail woman. The details are gory and all, but they ring true to my untrained ears. And I kind of grew to like her turn of phrase in some spots, even if I thought it was overused.
- middling: Over-emphasis of torture-iz-bad thingy. Yeah, I got that. Get on with the story.
- really bad: The fish metaphor. OH HOLY GOD. When did she write these? I don’t know what was more disturbing, that I grudgingly accepted it (and even found it a little cute in places *cringes*), or that it was there.
[2] Two books by James Alan Gardner: Expendable and Commitment Hour.

vague impressions: Liked Expendable better than Commitment Hour, because there was more Festina in it. Oh, and Festina Ramos is completely kickass, and I am going to greedily buy books with her in it and download them to my Kindle, and YAY. I’m just very glad I stumbled across this author— his books are the type my eyes would skip right over in a bookshop. “Old, probably boring and offensive sci-fi,” I would think, and walk right past gems. Commitment Hour is proof alone that this guy has an idea of what he’s doing, but I’m very glad I read Expendable first, so I could trust him and finish it off. His central universe is a very interestingly put-together one, and Commitment Hour is a nice stroll off into the borders to look more closely at how fucked up some spots of it are. And it’s about people who grow up switching genders every year so they can make an informed choice! Premise was interesting, but like I said, I think it needed some more Festina.
good: Festina Ramos. Oar. The plot. The universe. The League of Peoples. The conclusions to which Gardner takes things. Genderbending FOR REALS.
middling: Absence of Festina in Commitment Hour. I was so looking forward to seeing her again; now I’ve got to wait.
bad: I will have to pay money for all of these books. I also have to eat, and pay my phone bill. These two things may come in conflict with each other.

[3] Two books by John Scalzi: Agent to the Stars and Old Man’s War, and both for free. The first was free because it is posted entirely online for free, and the second was free because of Tor’s run-up to whatever speshul site they have planned for their sci-fi collection— you get free e-books for a couple weeks before the site is revealed.
- vague impressions: I like his writing style a whole lot more than I thought I would. After hearing the rough premise of Old Man’s War and drifting over to his blog a couple times, I was convinced that I would hate the book. But I didn’t. I liked Agent to the Stars a whole lot, and I also liked Old Man’s War. He’s got the knack of writing stuff that feels real, which is exactly the sort of stuff I crave nowadays. Whether or not I agree with some of the choices he made in OMW is besides the point— I am now open to Scalzi’s business, so to speak.
- good: A sarcastic, needling style is always nice to read when it’s honestly set out, and well done to boot.
- middling: Some of his premises seemed a little fantastic. Yes, I know, sci-fi fantasy, and I’m complaining. But some of it just felt a little thin to me.
- bad: More money to spend on this guy in the future. *sigh*
[4] The Throne series (?) by Joshua Palmatier. I.e., in order, The Skewed Throne, The Cracked Throne and The Vacant Throne.
- vague impressions: I must have more. If I can’t have more of Varis (the awesome female heroine), or even more of Amenkor (the city the first two books is primarily set in), I must have more of this guy’s stuff. There is something incredibly close about reading his work. He has spoilt the “child thief” trope for me by doing it way too well. And the magic, god. Though it was exactly the sort of magic that can violently rub me the wrong way (no defined limits, vague language, etc), the way he handled it really, really worked. It was terrible magic, in a good way.
- good: VARIS. AMENKOR. MAGIC SYSTEM. Plot. Handling of savage race— I won’t say much, but I think he handled that very well as well.
- middling: The flashback bits were a bit choppy.
- bad: No ebook version. Daw books, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. :(
[5] The Nightrunner series by Lynn Flewelling: in order, Luck in the Shadows, Stalking Darkness and Traitor’s Moon.
- vague impressions: This is another “I never would have thought” moment. I hate prophecies. I hate Great Quests. David Eddings’ brutal handling of both is undoubtedly at the seed of my dislike for both devices, along with JKR and others I am glad to have forgotten about. However, Lynn (I am NOT typing her last name over and over again) somehow cunningly hid the prophecy and a couple great quests in a very attractive getup, and after I swallowed it whole, I found that I quite liked it.
- good: M/M relationship front and center. Interesting action. Nice, easy sort of read. Assassin/thief/spy stuff, which I LOVE.
- middling: Villains were kind of eh. The usual soulless possessed individuals, more or less. But the climax of that plot was pretty awesome, so I forgave her.
- bad: Next book in the series comes out later this year. *sighs*

LJ Advisory Board announcement

Sat, 01 Mar 2008 18:15:52 GMT

Lawrence Lessig is on it. As are Danah Boyd and Esther Dyson (official announcement is here). I haven’t seen the news elsewhere on my flist here yet, so thought I’d get the word out.

I don’t know how to feel about this just yet. I don’t know how much real influence they’ll have on SUP, and although I miss the bustle of LJ still, and would like to have some of the new features they’re turning out, I think I’d rather just sit tight and watch to see what happens. I wonder if this news will change the minds of people who have left LJ— all three of the people I mentioned as advisory board members are heavyweights as far as arguing for circumspect, non-restrictive policies and so on goes.

Update

Sun, 24 Feb 2008 13:54:16 GMT

I am:

- alive
- thinking a bunch of things through
- not writing fanfic right now. Will put up a notice about all currently unfinished stories on FF.net sometime later today.
- reading A LOT.

Just a status update

Sun, 27 Jan 2008 23:47:17 GMT

Here, not dead, etc. Just did some flist pruning today, so if you noticed me defriend you or whatnot, don't take it personally. I've been thinking about my spare involvement with LJ fandom lately, and just suddenly realised I was wasting my time on here*. So, new deal: news posts about my fic will be here for the time being. Everything else-- well, there wasn't really much of an anything else *left*, was there? I'll keep this journal for commenting purposes, and maybe post the news here when I write something new, but that's about it. *shoos* go back to your day, and I hope it goes as awesome as mine is right now.

* By "wasting my time", I mean just generally posting here about things neither you or I care about. I love reading what others post; I love reading essays and stuff. But I don't have any great drive to write my own, so what's left? I doubt half of you reading this can remember very clearly who I am, much less that I write (those of you who do, hey, I'm not talking to you :P) AUs that torture me in a fandom that tortures me. This IJ is going to become (for now, while I beat back my urge to move to Tumblr) what my original LJ was for: a way to maybe answer anon reviews, and keep readers up with my stories. And if you think this a bit of a dramatic way to do things, well, don't you know, that is me all over. This is just the first time I feel like I can just let go of that urge to fit in, to create somehow, even when I don't have the inclination to.

Various news

Sun, 20 Jan 2008 21:23:13 GMT

Things are steaming full speed ahead again on my personal archive, which has now replaced my very purple temporary pages. Again, it’s hosted on Wordpress, and there aren’t any actual stories in it yet, but hey! Go poke at it, and tell me if things are displaying wonkily for you or whatnot.

It’s been a lot of geeky fun getting things to where they are now, which is great. AND I think I’m getting really close to cracking the navigation nut. I’m doing it mostly with pages and good linking, instead of Wordpress’s annoying category/tagging functions, which just don’t really suit my purpose. So far, all of the heavy navigational lifting will just be done with well-coded/linked Pages, and actual stories and occasional state-of-the-archive updates will be posts. There will only be about three categories or so, and if it all works, anyone visiting my site should be able to vaguely understand what I’m about and get reading within a couple of clicks.

As far as writing goes…ggrh. I’ve decided what I want to do re: the AST universe, but I just don’t know whether to talk about it yet. So far, my decisions have only produced an okayish one-shot from Severus’ pov, lots of outlining and scavenging of the HP Lexicon, and not much else. And I keep tripping over my self-doubt and my preconceptions about writing and what it should be.

But that’s another post.

My third bit of news is that you should all totally rent Eastern Promises right fucking now. It’s not a perfect movie; heck, it’s even annoying quite a few times. And the main female character’s actions are supremely irritating to watch. But Viggo Mortensen, as Nikolai, and some other guy Vincent Cassel as Kirill, steal and save the fucking movie. And my inner language geek pored happily over the very interesting intersection between the London accent and the Russian accent, and was satisfied.

Fourth bit of news: I CAN HAZ KINDLE, GUYS. :D. I just…I spent last weekend reading books on it, and I’m hooked. Just like I knew I would be. The moment I can get back to my fanfic—>ebook project, I’m there again. Just have to wrestle away time from boring school stuff, and I’m gold.

Fic: Turning the Corner

Mon, 14 Jan 2008 03:17:23 GMT

And here it is, the result of some creative outlining. Yes, the tags on this post probably don't make sense; I will be outlining what I now mean when I tag something fic-verse:ast. Otherwise, if you want a sharpish draught of unedited, nineteen-year-old Severus on a mission, read on.

A/N: Warning for adult themes and language. Also, here be dubious consent, graphic sexual descriptions, swearing and general adult theme. Please pretend that Aberforth Dumbledore has the same sort of Scottish accent as Craig Ferguson; trust me, it makes it all better. Pairing is kind of a spoiler: Aberforth/Severus.

Summary: The year is 1979. Severus Snape is 19, and has been commanded to be desperate. He obeys…with disconcerting results.

Turning the Corner

There was nothing Severus enjoyed more nowadays than walking into the Hog’s Head and having people make way. It was a cold night, and the wind had bit him hard through his shabby blue cloak as he walked up Hogsmeade’s high street, so Severus took what enjoyment he could get from the parting of the evening crowd before him. He didn’t think he would enjoy much else tonight.

“Ah, young Snape,” Aberforth Dumbledore said, his smile the wrong sort of friendly. “Stiff night out there, isn’t it?”

On any other night, Severus would have sneered at him, or kept his order short, and moved on and away from the man’s creeping interest. Tonight, though… “Is indeed.” He felt colder than ever as he slid up to the bar and put an arm on it, trying to make it look accidental. “Gillywater, please.”

“Oh, indeed,” Aberforth said, drifting closer. “Meeting someone?”

Severus, against all instinct, looked him straight in the eye. “Might be.” He looked down again, quickly, at his hands. I’m playing it too strong. Got to be. Aberforth had moved away by now, and his rough voice could be heard dealing with another customer. Whoever it was, they kept their elbows and their robes to themselves.

On any other night, that would have made Severus smile.

Strong is good, he tried to tell himself, as he felt Aberforth’s eyes rove over him. Too strong is better.

“Now, then,” Aberforth said, his voice closer than Severus would have liked. “Gillywater?”

Severus didn’t dare look up; as if the old bastard ever forgot an order. More likely he just wanted to see Severus squirm. “Yeah. And a word.”

Aberforth snorted. “I’m busy.” A glass thumped down before Severus, and he forced himself to look up a little; this would have to be well done.

“Busy,” he said, derisively. “Here I am, draped all over your counter, asking to talk to you.” Severus tapped his gillywater with a finger, but didn’t take an eye off Aberforth as it rose at his command. “You’re not busy enough to ignore that, are you?”

It had been a mistake to look up again, however much it emphasised his words. For now, Severus could see their effect, could watch something flash in Aberforth’s cold blue eyes, and watch him smile.

“No, Snape,” he said, still smiling. “Just busy enough that I can’t be out from behind here, not for long.” He sighed briefly in thought, looking to his left and right, measuring the continued flow of customers in and out of the pub. Making Severus squirm. Again. “Come— come along behind here and sit down. There’s some booths near the kitchen, for private conversations.” His smile reappeared, taking on a slightly savage edge. “That suit?”

Severus shrugged, and hoped it looked unconcerned. His face stayed blessed calm as he made his way behind the bar, trying to look as if he did this sort of thing every day. Right now, that was the only legacy of meetings with the Dark Lord that he could feel thankful for. Those had held him up in the Inner Circle, sooner than someone his age might reach in a short time, but they had also borne him here, into Aberforth Dumbledore’s hands.

The thoughts that surfaced at that made Severus blanch despite himself. He made his expression of distaste disappear by main force as he looked back at Aberforth, holding court at the bar, and was waved through the door to the kitchens. The harried-looking house elves within pointed him on again without comment, so that he quickly found the set of private booths Aberforth had referred to. They were truly private, with only the buzz of conversation and the deeper shadows that hung about most of them to signify that they were occupied.

Severus, squashing another unhelpful thought, chose one less thickly shadowed and sat down. Thick, spell-made silence surrounded him almost immediately.

It didn’t help the thoughts. The booth table was smaller than the ones outside, and the seat much more comfortable. Only one edge of the table did not have plush seating to supplement it, and there was a smell, something familiar and heavy that Severus did not quite want to recognise.

Fool, he thought, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, you’re desperate, remember? You will do anything he wants for what you ask. Anything. The Dark Lord hadn’t suggested anything in particular, but the look in his eyes as he’d spoken of Severus’ new task had hinted at it. The casual-seeming pat on the shoulder at the end of that meeting took on a new significance; Merlin knew Severus’ memories and fears were open to the Dark Lord. He would surely have rifled through them, honing in on the ones most likely significant, predicting the methods most likely to be used tonight—

It was a bracing thought. Severus’ shoulder itched, and a terrifying suspicion took hold of him. He wouldn’t ask that of me, he thought, his face now feeling like stone. He wouldn’t want— has never wanted—

But it was already too late to reconsider his method for tonight. Aberforth’s hand pierced the silence of the booth, followed by his slim frame. He sat heavily, most likely on purpose, and Severus found himself forced to look down so he could safely let some panic show on his face. Was tonight just another elaborate test? Might the Dark Lord infer…certain conclusions from the test?

Severus stamped on his panic with a single thought. I won’t, he thought viciously, decisively. Not with him.

Aberforth’s smile widened a little as he finally looked up. “So. The word?”

Severus nodded and shifted in his seat, preparing the first sentence he would say. Something thumped and splashed just in front of him, making him start; the gillywater. It took a lot not to glare at Aberforth, who was still smiling, and still more to take up the drink and take a sip.

That calmed him; a good idea. Severus cleared his throat, and spoke. “I hear you’re still in contact with your brother.”

Aberforth nodded slowly, his smile fading somewhat. “And?”

“I need to speak to him,” Severus said, simply. “I thought—”

“Floo him, lad,” Aberforth said, his smile turning derisive. “I hear he still works at Hogwarts. Your headmaster, wasn’t he?” Severus nodded, reluctantly, and decided he hated Aberforth’s chuckle. It sounded eerily like Dumbledore’s. “He’s a soft one. Surely he won’t mind hearing from an old student. Lives for that sort of thing.”

“Not from me,” Severus said, keeping his tone as even as possible. Aberforth leaned forward, intent. “You know why.”

“Do I?” Aberforth’s hand was on top of his, now. When had that happened? “You’re too young to be much with them, aren’t you?” His smile was now almost…approving. “You just carry it very, very well.”

Severus fought the urge to settle back into his seat and take his hand away. “I’m marked,” he forced out, bitterly amused that he did not need to feign that. “And I’ve tried to Floo him. Doesn’t work.”

“You, marked?” Aberforth said, not seeming to have heard the rest. His eyes were hooded now, and far too close for Severus’ comfort. “Show me.”

Severus gritted his teeth. “Just take my word for it,” he found himself saying sharply, not needing to fake this reluctance at all. “If you can set up a meeting—”

Aberforth laughed unpleasantly. “Don’t be daft,” he said, and his hand suddenly became a vicelike grip around Severus’ left wrist, steadily pulling him closer. A breeze ruffled his robe sleeve up and out of the way, and it was suddenly a lot brighter within the booth.

All the better to show off the Mark, and Severus’ pale arm beneath it. Aberforth’s laughter rang out again, and somehow, that stung more than everything else had, making Severus’ hands shake as he wrested his arm back.

“God’s teeth, lad,” Aberforth said, amusement clear on his face. “That fresh?”

“Half a year old,” Severus said, despite himself. “Fresh to you, maybe.”

“Half a year old,” Aberforth repeated, his eyes faraway. “Nineteen and as deep as anyone can be. Your birthday’s in January, isn’t it?”

Severus glared at him, but nodded anyway. Maybe this would be it; annoying jibes about him being too young for everything, and a cavalier disregard for his dignity. Mum had had that last one down pat; “Nineteen,” she’d said, “and suddenly you’ve got dignity.”

Aberforth cleared his throat, amusement still lurking in his eyes. “Come upstairs in ten— no, twenty minutes,” he said, standing up. “It’ll be through the door, down the corridor, and up the first stairs you see. Then you’ll turn into another corridor, and it’ll be in the room on the first left.” His hand casually stroked Severus’ neck. “Got it?”

Cavalier disregard for my dignity, Severus thought, and forced a nod. And then he was alone in the godforsaken booth, slumping a little in relief. There had actually been nothing to it— suspicious, yes, but at this point, Severus was hardly in the mood to complain. Especially not when he would likely be relating every last detail of this night to the Dark Lord. If— and he dared to hope— if Aberforth called the Headmaster, and at least let Severus talk to him, Severus could leave out some of the more shameful moments of this night. That hand on his; that hand on his neck.

Severus realised he was gritting his teeth, and shook his head, trying to make himself relax. No point in being actually wound up when he went upstairs. None at all. He seized his drink and began to sip at it, calming his mind as best as he could, checking the time and hoping he wouldn’t be too long waiting down here.

It turned out that he’d not needed to bother; at just about the time when Severus had begun to debate going up early just in case, a house elf appeared in his booth.

“Master will see you now,” it said, unusually brusque. Its large eyes looked him over as he got to his feet, setting the glass down on the table. Severus glared at it, and it looked down as he left the thick, skin-crawling silence.

Now for it. Finding his way upstairs took no time at all. It was even almost pleasant— certainly interesting to see the furnishings become less shabby as he climbed the stairs. That fit with something he’d thought from the moment he’d had his first drink here; everything was dirty, yes. Too dirty. A front, just like the silent, insolent front Aberforth Dumbledore put up for those that didn’t interest him.

Severus still didn’t know why he’d caught the horrible man’s eye. Well, he knew why, or could guess why, from how he’d always been treated here, but that wasn’t enough reason for it. He’d always thought he’d be the last person to have that kind of attention directed at him, especially while he’d still been in school.

The first door on the left was slightly ajar, and Severus could feel the spelled silence part around him as he entered, then solidify as he shut the door behind him.

“Boy,” Aberforth said, his tone low and sharp. “Turn the corner.”

Severus did as he was told, then came to an unwilling stop as the narrow corridor he’d entered opened out before him. There was a bed, and Aberforth sat on it, stroking himself. Something bent in Severus as he watched the old man part his robes and pull out his hardened cock. He stepped forward anyway, distantly hoping it didn’t show.

Aberforth smiled, and this time, it seared him. “On your knees.”

Severus hesitated for a moment. For his pride. The wooden floor creaked softly as he settled down and shuffled awkwardly forward, careful to keep his eyes down. But Aberforth would have none of that; his other hand snaked into Severus’ hair and tilted his face up.

That smile, from this position—

“Excellent,” was all Aberforth said, and yet that also cut deep. He let go of Severus’ hair, and his smile faded. “Put that mouth to some use, boy; open it.”

The cock— Severus would not let himself think of its owner— was as hard and familiar as any he’d ever been faced with. Grey hair at the base. Warm in his hands. Severus thought of closing his eyes, and did not. He had a strong inkling that he would be made to keep them open.

Hatred gathered in Severus’ throat as he took his first, generous lick. Aberforth chuckled above him, sending a shiver down his back. “Seasoned, are you?” he said, his tone thick with suggestion. “I thought so.” Severus slid his mouth down and sucked, hoping that would stop the words.

It didn’t. “Merlin,” Aberforth said. “Those lips were made for this. Very— very good.” Severus, his mouth full, could only glare down and try to blink his watering eyes into submission. “How many ways,” Aberforth asked, quietly, “are you a virgin?”

His hand found Severus’ hair again, pulling him up; it seemed that he wanted an answer. Severus very badly wanted a number of things, but could only try to wipe away the saliva on his chin. “None,” he said, trying to make his tone neutral, but his voice was cracking, and Aberforth was laughing again.

“I’m torn, you see,” Aberforth said, tilting Severus’ head up again. “I’d love to find out who, but at the same time…” His cock twitched, and Severus wanted to rip it off. There were spells for that; he’d seen one, once. But the hard blue eyes held his, and dared him on, and he knew he would not. Could not, unless he wanted to die; the cock was hot and firm in his mouth, and he could feel the restless power surge around his face, aroused by what he was doing.

After then, Aberforth interrupted him only once. And then, he did not speak, simply forcing Severus’ eyes to his, then forcing him back down. I own you, was the message, clear as day. I own you, tonight. And there was nothing Severus could do; he’d come into this fucking room by the Dark Lord’s design, and leaving it without achieving his purpose was as good as sentencing himself to death.

And, god, it could have been anyone else, but for the raw power that sat on what there was of Severus’ bare skin, and the command in the hands that were still in his hair. Severus did everything he could think of, and thanked Merlin that this had never done much for him. Whatever he could use to insult Aberforth tonight without compromising everything, he would use. It was what was desired of him; he saw that now.

Aberforth gasped once, soft and harsh all at once, and Severus knew what it was to be held completely against his will. He couldn’t stop himself from thinking, despite how useless he knew it to be. Will the Dark Lord want this? Will he want it just like this?

Come hit the back of his throat, and Aberforth withdrew almost immediately, leaving Severus heaving and sputtering and pathetically glad that one step of this all was over.

That is, until he heard the knocking, and saw that Aberforth’s cock was being tidily put out of sight, and that there was come on Severus’ hands. Aberforth waved a hand, and the next smile on his face was not for Severus at all.

“Bertie, I’ve an interview tonight,” Albus Dumbledore said, sounding cross. “What on earth are you doing in here? The door was…” Severus heard the moment he was seen in the Headmaster’s shocked intake of breath.

“Finishing a chat, I was,” Aberforth said, putting a hand to Severus’ reddened face. “Young Snape, here. Former student of yours, I believe?”

“Ah,” Dumbledore said, tonelessly. “I see.”

Severus, gulping down the last of Aberforth’s come, tried to tell himself his nonverbal Evanesco had been in time. The sheer…brightness of Aberforth’s eyes told him otherwise as he stumbled to his feet, trying to gather up some semblance of dignity.

The pity in Dumbledore’s eyes nearly undid him. Severus, trying desperately to put himself together, looked down. Words escaped him, and were still far from his tongue, for the Headmaster was moving forward, such a calm expression on his face that Severus would have sworn they were meeting normally if not for the taste in his mouth.

“Apparently, your anti-Dark magic charm web is working,” Aberforth said, shifting loudly behind Severus. “Wouldn’t let him through the Floo, not to Hogwarts.”

Severus flushed, more violently than he felt he’d ever done in his life. A glare back in the old bastard’s direction would only give him satisfaction, so Severus looked at his brother instead, trying desperately to think of something to say.

Aberforth cleared his throat. “I offered some help,” he said, suggestively. “Does this suit, Snape?”

“Be quiet,” Dumbledore snapped, making Severus go still. “You’ve had your fun; let him alone.”

“Fun?” Severus could almost see the vicious smile. “I should think so.”

“So,” Dumbledore said, looking straight at Severus, eyes hard, “you are marked.” Severus nodded. “And desperate, I assume.”

Aberforth laughed, but just this once, it did not steal the words from Severus’ mouth. “Yes,” he said. “And— well—”

Dumbledore sighed. “What would you have me do?” he asked, pointedly. “I can’t trust you.”

“If you don’t, he’ll kill me,” Severus said, believing it, and wishing that he did not. Lucius would laugh if he ever heard of any of this. Anyone— everyone would laugh. His eyes burned; he did not know which would be worse. Then he looked at Dumbledore again, and saw he was rapt. “He sent me to…spy on you.”

Dumbledore’s eyes left him, then, moving around the room. They eventually landed on something behind Severus. Or, rather, someone. Then, without warning, Dumbledore’s blue eyes pinned Severus down again, scoring him with Legilimency so deep he barely felt its touch. “Will you spy on me?”

When Severus spoke, he knew it was the truth. “No.” He could still taste Aberforth in his mouth, could almost feel the man’s eyes raking him from behind. And there was no forgetting the pleasure the bastard had taken in forcing him; that was most likely how it would be, with anyone else.

With the Dark Lord, even. “No,” Severus said again, quietly. “I won’t.”

Dumbledore nodded, slowly. Then looked around the room, his eyes travelling to a clock Severus had not seen. “Floo me tomorrow evening,” he said, turning away. “You— and only you— will be allowed through.”

“Oh, but Albus,” Aberforth asked, merrily, “won’t that be a tad unsafe? Couldn’t he just have an Imperius slapped on him before hand, and—”

“If he can’t keep free of an Imperius for a day, then there is really no hope for him,” Dumbledore said, matter-of-factly. He glanced at Severus. “You do understand that I will require a vow…?”

“Of course.”

Aberforth snorted. “And that’ll be all?” he said, mockingly. “Just a vow? Hah. At least I was straight with him.” Dumbledore shot him a look that was sharp and utterly devoid of expression. “Well, it’s not like he’s not amenable to what you’d want. Is it?”

Dumbledore set his jaw. “Tomorrow evening, Severus?” was all he said, though he shot a look of disgust in his brother’s direction. “Good night.”

Aberforth snorted again. A moment later, Dumbledore was gone, and Severus could hear his footsteps through the thin walls as he made his way downstairs.

“It isn’t, by the way.” Severus tried hard to keep his face straight as he turned to look at Aberforth, but he obviously had not succeeded, from the way the man smiled. “You’re not exactly his type, but—”

“He’s never like you,” Severus said, unable to help himself, following the simple statement with a dismissive look up and down. “Not on your level.”

Aberforth laughed silently, shaking his head. “Oh, lad,” he said, rising slowly to his feet, “you’ll see. He hides it very well. And, like I said,” he put a hand on Severus’ arm, “you’re not his type.”

It suddenly broke through to Severus that they weren’t talking about the Headmaster’s bent for manipulation. Aberforth’s chuckle cut him almost as deeply as the realisation of the Headmaster’s…preferences did. Manipulation, Severus could excuse; the man ran a boarding school, for goodness’ sake, and needed to keep the peace, however ham-handedly he did so. But— and great god, Sirius Black was known to be amenable to everyone and everything. And Potter. Potter had always been handsome, as had Black—

Aberforth was still chuckling, still stroking his arm. “You see it now, don’t you?” He put a hand to Severus’ cheek. “You’ll need to know everything you can about him. It always comes in handy.”

Severus turned away his face. “Shouldn’t you be encouraging me not to let him down?”

“Fool,” Aberforth said, forcing his face back. “I know my brother.” He stepped back, and sat down on the bed again, one hand moving easily to his cock. “Stay?”

Severus stared at him. “You’d have to kill me first.” Aberforth didn’t laugh; he only looked and smiled as Severus flushed again.

“Then why are you still here?” he asked, parting his robes again to reveal his stiffening cock. “If you’re so…eager to be away.”

Severus did not dare swallow, did not dare think. He only moved, and tried not to feel the least bit gratified at the catch in the other man’s breath as he leaned down and kissed him. It was, by every standard imaginable, an indecent kiss; Aberforth supplied all the indecency necessary, forcing his tongue into Severus’ mouth and reaching down and around and squeezing here and there. Severus had to back away to end it, and even then— “That all?”

Severus did not let himself freeze. If he did— no, no more thoughts, no more thinking. He stumbled backwards, hating himself for having responded at all. “That,” he said, putting all the venom and frustration that had built up today into his tone, “was extra. I don’t owe you a minute more, now.”

Aberforth sighed. “Tease.”

Severus wiped his mouth, and called up an image of Aberforth bound, naked, bloody. Screaming. It did nothing but make him redden more. “You ever touch me again—”

“I quite understand,” was the laconic answer. “Get on with you.”

Severus made sure to slam the door behind him, though it didn’t make him feel much better. Used, used and filthy; that was how he felt. When he got home tonight, he was going to scrub himself, scrub his mouth, scrub out that taste—

He was soon out into the Pub, and had to press through the crowd. It was more packed in here now, so even his glare did nothing to make things faster. The night air stung him as he finally plunged through the door, bringing unbidden tears to his eyes.

“You weren’t even fucked,” he whispered to himself. “Don’t you dare.” He scrubbed at his eyes, turned round, and went back in. I’m going to have a fucking drink before I go. I fucking deserve it.

Naturally, with that attitude, he had more than just one drink. Firewhiskeys, warm in the glass and scorching on the way down, each one shoving him far enough away from sobriety that he didn’t care who served them. Someone jostled him, and he snarled, and moments later, they were screaming and flapping about. No blood; pathetic.

The hands that gripped him made no sense. His own hands felt like they could hold nothing, not even his wand— was it in his pocket? Never good to go without—

“Not under my roof,” the barkeeper growled in his ear. And Severus could have sworn that someone was groping his arse. Bizarre, really; as drunk as he was, he could just about parse the fact that he was being thrown out. But not outside— inside, somehow, somewhere dark. “Sit here,” someone said, and they made him sit, and their footsteps went away and didn’t come back.

Two people came back, however. Severus was in some kind of cage, or cocoon— cocoon, what a word— was that blood in his mouth?

“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches,” someone said, sounding far away. “Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies…”

Severus listened to them with only half an ear, still turning over the silly word in his mind. Cocoon. The cocoon will die, he told himself, eyes closed, curled up inside it. Vanquishing.

There was a pensieve in the room in which the Dark Lord sat. Severus heard the door close behind him, and could not remember stepping forward so it could close. The Dark Lord hadn’t exactly specified how he would relate his findings, but Severus had assumed that he would simply talk. That he could at least try to gloss over some moments—

“Have you ever used a pensieve before?” His Lord’s tone was bored, brisk, even. When Severus nodded, he sighed in relief, not looking up from the book he was looking through. “Put your memory in. Leave nothing out.”

Severus moved mechanically, forcing himself through the steps to get the first memory out; two nights ago, he had sucked Aberforth Dumbledore off for no reason beside the fact that the man had ordered him to. Severus, thinking of the fury he now felt after his belated realisation that Dumbledore might have come to the Hog’s Head that evening for separate business, felt absurdly grateful that feelings did not go into the pensieve along with facts. He thought back to when he’d last used one, and had so desperately wished his feelings could go in as well, and might have laughed if the Dark Lord weren’t eyeing him coolly.

The next memory splashed in, receding from Severus’ mind in a way the first one had not. He stepped back, wondering if extracting that one a second time might help.

A moment later, the Dark Lord was shifting in his soft chair, head moving slightly to one side. Severus couldn’t stop his eyes from searching down that lean body in a way that would have felt sacrilegious to him once. I have to know, he told himself, to combat the guilt and fear.

And then, with another shift of the Dark Lord just so, Severus did. Severus stared at the visible lump between the other man’s legs with a mixture of fear and searing realisation. Robes never lied; the Dark Lord was hard. From watching— from watching Severus humiliated on his knees.

Bile and anger collected together in the back of Severus throat. He closed his eyes briefly, thinking feverishly, setting up a mental shield he knew would be suspicious, but could not help it. Then his mum’s voice, unusually dry and stern, came to him: work with your instincts, he could hear her say. They make the largest lies seem true.

So, then, Severus worked. He moved back the shield, making it smaller and more specific, and making way for what would hide it. Fear; that was easy to dredge up. But the associations it needed— yes, that memory would do, that awful one he could never quite stop taking out, the one of Lily. Take away the slap, add the useless hard-on that had sprung up once she was on the scene, add in the shame. Arranged like that, they would suggest something of interest to the Dark Lord, something hidden. Lastly, the thought of another cock in his mouth, and the deep fear of his fears being seen, being known, and it was done; a most distracting masterpiece for someone who had just seen him bring another man off.

Severus, opening his eyes, let the fear rise up to obscure all else. No time to think of the implications of all this, no time at all. And just like that, the Dark Lord shifted again, and opened his eyes.

The small smile he gave Severus was far less…intimate than he’d expected. “Well done,” he said, quietly, his voice seeming to fill the small room. “I suppose I did ask for…desperation. Do you think you were believed?”

Severus smiled, not minding that it wavered a little. “Yes.”

The Dark Lord shook his head, and the smile sat uneasily on his face. “The first memory,” he said, making Severus’ heart rise into his throat, “near the end—”

“Yes?”

“You were drunk,” the Dark Lord said, no longer smiling.

Severus could not breathe for fear. “Forgive me, but— I needed—”

“I heard what you heard,” the Dark Lord said, ignoring him. Surprising him. “I saw…the Headmaster, and a woman, who was speaking. Do you know who she was?”

Severus wracked his brains, turning over the question in his mind, wondering why it was being asked. “I…think it was an interviewee. For one of the open teaching posts at Hogwarts.”

“Divination, by any chance?” The smile that rose to the Dark Lord’s face was hard and flat. “That was a prophecy you heard, you know.”

“Ah.” Severus was now quite at a loss. “What was it about?”

The Dark Lord now stared into the distance, with narrowed eyes. Severus’ eyes darted down him, and saw that no telltale lump remained. “It was about me, Severus.”

Severus nodded automatically, then suddenly understood the words. “Did you hear—”

“I heard enough.” His Lord snorted, but there was no amusement in it. “‘Thrice defied him’,” he muttered. “No one’s done that,” he went on, “save the Headmaster, and he’s past it. And not likely to get anyone pregnant very soon, from what I saw.” Severus bit his lip, wishing that Aberforth had been less— “Perhaps his vaunted parents taught him that sex was sin.”

“How do you know the prophecy is real?” Severus asked, tentatively. “As far as I know, Dumbledore didn’t hire that woman, so perhaps—”

“I’ve heard one before,” the Dark Lord said, turning to look at the pensieve. “I even watched it noted down, according to the custom of where I was at the time. The way it was spoken…distinctive.”

Severus nodded. “Has that one come to pass?”

The Dark Lord smiled then, suddenly, brilliantly, and his green eyes were like daggers, roving briefly over Severus where he stood. “No,” was the only answer. “Not at all.”

Severus nodded, and hoped he would be let go; prophecies were few and far between, these days. Half like myths that everyone repeated so fervently and feared so well that they did come to pass. Severus needed no prophecy to know he did not want to be in this room much longer, not with the Dark Lord eyeing him like that.

“You’ve done well, Severus,” he said, nodding slightly. “Ask…ask for a position at Hogwarts.”

“Which one?” There were three openings, all of them well known, only one of them for which Severus could even begin to think he was suited. “Potions?”

A snakelike smile flitted across the Dark Lord’s face. “Just the one.” He waved at Severus. “Take your memories; go.”

“Yes, my Lord.” And Severus, glad beyond the telling for the reprieve, took them and went, as fast as he could.

A/N: I’d be lying if I said I didn’t know where the idea for this pairing came from. AFY 2, folks; AFY 2.

All good things start slow

Mon, 14 Jan 2008 00:00:41 GMT

The title of this post is basically the law of my life, just now. It’s taken a while for me to realise it (no surprise there), but there it is. My best decisions are ones that I make over and over and over again, after hours of thought. I prod and adjust and flounce away and flounce back and think things over until I’m sick of them. Then I make a decision, and keep on prodding at it to see if it holds up.

My decision to write fanfiction has held up for the last two or three years. It still holds.

My decision to build a personal archive has held up for the last year or eight :D. It still holds (and, if you’re not put off by works in progress, you can take a peep here to see how it’s holding).

My decision to write in the A Surreal Tale universe— for it is a universe now— has held up for the last two years. It still holds.

You’ve heard about those decisions a lot over the last year, if you’ve followed me on LJ or kept track of my changing profile at FF.net. One decision you haven’t heard much about, though, is my decision to be in HP fandom.

You see, I thought I didn’t have to make that decision. I thought I could write a little removed from canon. I thought I had little or no respect for how things have gone down in the books or in the movies, and so I didn’t want to poke and prod at my decision to stay in HP fandom. For me, being part of a fandom is most about writing stories in the fandom. On some level, I don’t count myself part of Vorkosigan fandom, because I don’t write anything in that fandom. I can read all I like there, but don’t feel I’ve really thrown down there until I’ve written something. Writing is how I get close to a subject. Writing is an innate part of my decision-making process. Writing is how I answer my own questions about a canon, and until I care enough about a canon to ask questions and want to answer them for myself, I don’t really feel part of it, even if I enjoy the fic.

Sometime in the last two weeks, I just realised that I do care about the connection I have to HP canon. I’ll always love the first three or four books. I’ll probably buy the HP encyclopaedia when it comes out, no matter how loudly I’ll mutter about what decisions JKR makes next. And I’ll shamelessly borrow the parts of her interviews that intrigue me, just like I shamelessly borrow everything else. I’ll probably always care more about my own story— my own answers to questions about canon— but I won’t forget what I’m building on.

So, my decision to be part of HP fandom has held up since I picked up the first book, and got lost. It’s been closely questioned, ignored, avoided, prodded with sharp sticks, and slowly backed away from. It still holds.

And writing the AST universe as part of the larger HP universe…it’s consciously rearing up its head for the first time. It’s an old, half-made decision. But I hope it holds.

As always, this entry is all about how I make sense of things. I don’t doubt that other ways of participating in fandom exist, and agree that there’s more than fifty ways of measuring when you become a fan of something. But I’ll always think the way that matters most for measuring yourself is the one that you use. A broad standard that makes sense for everyone else may not makes sense for you, so.

Rewrite Begun

Sun, 13 Jan 2008 11:43:09 GMT

Two words: Severus/Aberforth.

*grins evilly* And all I've been *doing* to get to this point is outline and side-read canon. I wonder where I'll go next...

Busy with a B

Thu, 10 Jan 2008 18:18:17 GMT

It is ITEMISED LIST TIME, folks.

ficpdfs may be named drily, but it is tarted up all in green, and possesses a short blurb in its info. Soon to come: the brief first post and the first FAQ. Oh, and eventually my first attempt at conversion, which will be posted here, then (probably) tweaked based on any suggestions I get, then posted at ficpdfs. That won’t be the process for all the fics I convert, only for the first one.
The Kindle I ordered shipped yesterday!! I will probably be giggling over that until it gets here g.
Discs 2 and 3 of season 4 of The Wire have come in. I am SO LOVING IT still.
I have had Travails with Textmate while testing its html —> markdown. There might eventually be a post on the whole process of converting fics to pdfs with or without a powerful, sexy but troubled text editor on your side. Or at least on preparing fics for sane, easy conversion with whatever resources you have.
I think I want to learn applescript. Knowing a bit about bash and python scripting saved me hours of confusion when I was trying to get things set up, and I think learning how to applescript programs into doing my bidding would be a Good Thing.
I got an invite to Pownce yesterday. Then I signed up— jesus their signup process is intrusive! Real name, birthday and zip code? You know I faked some of that. I can’t believe they think anyone would trust them with important info just for access to some weird mashup of Twitter and Yousendit. I haven’t used it for anything yet, and if anyone wants invites, I’ve got six, so…*shrugs*
Have changed layout! I love this incarnation of Bloggish to death :D

coughs Er, comm creation

Wed, 09 Jan 2008 05:58:23 GMT

I've surprised myself by sticking with this fics-into-pdfs thing so far; I'm thinking of making ~~a comm~~ an asylum here where I can post the links and keep stuff updated and whatnot. Naming it is proving a little strange, though. So far, I have:

ebooks -- Pros: short and sweet, easy to understand, easy to remember; Cons: people might think they're real books-- real ebooks, so to speak. I dunno. And feels weird to monopolise this username when someone might want it later for, I dunno, a comm about ebooks?

fic_pdfs -- Pros: straightforward, easy to understand at first glance, purpose can be easily inferred; Cons: awkward, dry, not very fun. Uninspiring, if practical.

pink_pdfs OR pinkpdf OR pink_pdf -- Pros: ~~pink,~~ it's got 'pdf' in it, it's fun, likely easy to remember; Cons: god knows what it's about. Pink in front of something like pdf makes me think "porn" straight off, and while there will be porny pdfs made out of porny fics and posted in the comm, that's not the point of this all.

Hmm. Now that I've actually spelled this all out, I'm kind of leaning towards using ebooks...

More news on the ebook-making front

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 16:30:49 GMT

Now, let me preface all this with something that should be in giant text: I’ve never done this before. What I’m bringing to this table as far as skill goes is a miraculously relevant handful of applications that I own, a good working knowledge of CSS and HTML, and steely determination.

Yesterday, I went on a PDF learning rampage of sorts. I tried to find out how to do specific things, and tried to discover why Adobe 8 Pro was bitching me out and was so eye-bogglingly complex to figure out. In backwards order, I learned about how Adobe 8 will do accessibility, then learned where on earth in the document that you’d go about adding accessibility features like tagging and whatnot, then mistakenly tried to use the tools to test out what I’d found, then found Acrobat Distiller, then searched for the mythic Rich Content PDF settings file (missing from the extras folder on my Adobe DVD shakes fist), then realised I could create my own settings file…if I knew what to put in it.

*Sighs* This will be more complicated than I was anticipating. Before, I planned to just print to PDF from my browser with the final edited html file in my sights. Now, I see I’m going to have to pipe the files through Word and/or Scrivener and edit everything into submission. So my workflow will look something like:

Get hold of the html file(s) for the fic in question.
Pipe the file into Scrivener somehow— not too clear yet on how I will do this. I’m considering two ways. I can
- convert the html files into Markdown, then import them into Scrivener as text files, or
- save the html files into rtf files with TextEdit, then import those files into Scrivener.
Edit the file(s) in Scrivener (if needed). I’m seriously considering editing them as Markdown-formatted text in Textmate, because then I could write valid Markdown, get that to Scrivener and then export as solid RTF, and only end up sticking Scrivener with higher-level design decisions and structuring and all that jazz. I do not envision myself having the time or inclination to go through each fic nitpicking on italics and stuff like that— I would really like fairly uniform output that I can tweak a little in Word as it suits me.
Export the file(s) from Scrivener, preferably into .rtf.
Go over the file(s) in Word. Add numbering, or header/footer, etc.
Either
- save the finished word file as postscript using the print dialog, or
- save the finished file as a .doc, period
Use Distiller to convert the postscript or .doc file into a pdf
Torture the pdf in Acrobat Pro until it capitulates.

Then I’ll upload, link, pimp, etc etc.

For my sanity, I think I’m going to stick to the goal of creating a well-formatted, tagged, easy-to-read, words-only pdf at first. I hate and have always hated and will always hate working with Word to put pictures in anything. Word sucks for adding pics to anything, and since I don’t have Adobe InDesign or any other fancy publishing program on hand (and also don’t feel much like working with one anyway), AND don’t have a word processor that sanely handles images, I’m just going to leave them alone. A good looking cover page and back page and well-done insides should be just fine.

ETA: Markdown editing it is. After wrestling with the Textmate bundle editor, I now have a way to quickly and easily convert html fic files to text files that I can easily edit. sighs in relief

Snarry fic search + random news

Tue, 08 Jan 2008 00:58:04 GMT

I think I said a while ago that I was doing a general search-and-download of every fic I could find that I know I’ll be craving to read when my Kindle finally materialises. Both parts of my post today are born of that aim.

1. SNARRY SEARCH: snakeling to the rescue! This fic is "Through a Glass Darkly", by lexin.
I’m looking for an AU where
a) Voldemort won, and the Death Eaters are now running the Ministry and Hogwarts and everything
b) There is an Eton-type fagging system in place at Hogwarts
c) Harry is still alive (though Lily is dead, and James is as well, I think)
d) Harry and Snape get together.
It’s a delicious read, and good god I cannot find it for the LIFE OF ME on Walking The Plank, despite the fact that I strongly remember it being on that site. Please help?

2. FICS -> PDFS: After shivering all over at the thought of the Kindle when it first came out, I realised I’d have to put stuff on it. And there is only so much available for purchase that will find its way onto my as-yet-absent Kindle, so eventually I thought of creating PDFs out of my fave novel- and novella-length fics. And I say PDFs here because I’m on a mac, and am not about to bother with Parallels to load Mobipocket Creator (which I also hear isn’t a pleasant experience to use for heavy-duty book putting-togethering), especially not when I have the good fortune to have Acrobat Pro available to me.

Currently, my proposed workflow is as such: a) Ask authors/artists/whoever for permission if I can get hold of them
b) Download html files for the fic in question, including images where possible
c) Attack html files with the power of Textmate, and get them semantic and xhtmlized and so on
d) Create one or two CSS stylesheets for all the fics
e) Obsessively tweak stylesheets until the fics display really well
f) Convert fic html files + stylesheets to PDF using (hopefully) Prince XML, OR just print them to PDF using the Acrobat printer thingy or Preview’s built in machismo
g) Open PDFs in Acrobat Pro and tag them so that they will reflow, and make damn sure the links and whatnot work
h) …
i) PROFIT
h) Send finished product to authors/artists AND upload files to a forgiving file upload site
i) Create masterlist either here on IJ or in my Wordpress archive thingy
j) Keep pdf links updated as needed (i.e. reupload as needed, then change the links, etc etc).

eyes her master plan Yes, that’s a ton of work. But…I can’t find my pdf copy of Cartographer’s Craft. And I want to have A Deeper Season in pdf, as well as about fifty other long fics I should damn well have saved to my hard drive by now. And I’ll have space on my Kindle for them, right?