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This Is Now

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LEARNING TO APPARATE [Jul. 4th, 2005|12:48 pm]
This Is Now

this_is_now

[purepansy]
[Current Mood |accomplished]

It really is very unfortunate about my cousin Rodolphus Lestrange's untimely demise. He was a dark and treacherous man, and I'm quite certain he would have preferred a more glamourous death than to be stomped flat by Sarsparilla whilst hiding amongst the bramble in the Forbidden Forest. I daresay he likely regrets having banished me to the Forbidden Forest when he came calling last week, for he never took the time to understand one of the most fundamental things about me, that being that I get along well with flora, fauna, and magical creatures exceptionally well. When I whistled for Sarsparilla finally, she came to me straight away (I found myself in the company of a most sour and off-putting creature who reminded me rather of Professor Umbridge, and it shortly became clear that the protective factor of a fire-breathing Sodzilla would be most useful). Anyhow, Sarsparilla came willingly, and more's the pity for my barmy cousin for it. I've his journal if anyone needs it (highest bidder, cash only)

Rodolphus had on him a magical dagger at the time of his death, which pierced the delicate pad of Sarsparilla's foot. It also had the unfortunate side effect of impaling his flattened body to Sarsparilla's toes, so I had to whack him loose with a fallen tree branch. I left him in the forest, figuring no one had use for him really.

I rode upon Sarsparilla's back for several days, figuring there was something amiss owing to the occasional group of hooded figures that hurried by, as if trying to hide. Most importantly, though:

I HAVE LEARNT TO APPARATE!!!!


It's funny what one can do when they have to, isn't it? I'm not sure I ever realised how true this is.

I Apparated away from my cousin when he first took me to the forest, and ended up in the pocket of a very large, very unarticulate, sixteen-foot man, who spoke little English. He squeezed me and called me "Germy" -- WHICH IS PATENTLY FALSE, THANK YOU SIXTEEN FOOT MAN!!!! -- and so I Apparated again, and this time found myself visiting with a herd of rather pretentious centaurs. They did share their alfalfa treacle with me, after we discussed Mars, the stars in general, and my personal position that centaurs are not human in the slightest, although they may share a general physical resemblance in certain areas. Alfalfa treacle, for the record, is quite fortifying, albeit a bit bland. I then went walking, and found a very lush grotto somewhere deep in the forest, where a group of unicorns live. I thought Regulus would have quite liked it there; he is back in Santorini, though. I then Apparated again, and that's when I met the aforementioned dour creature, who was a poor host indeed, and it was then that I decided to whistle for Sarsparilla, figuring she would be tall enough to be able to see above the forest canopy. Sarsparilla and I spent until Saturday navigating the forest, for as it turned out, she was often not tall enough to see above the trees, and when we finally emerged from the edge of the forest, we were on the Hogsmeade side.

So I rode Sarsparilla into town, and tethered her outside Madam Rosmerta's. My flat was undisturbed, so I felt comfortable fixing tea and crumpets for myself, and it was then that I was able to peruse the newspapers. While sipping tea, mind. I see that Draco and I will have only had tea with Potter the one time after all. I then began musing, for . . . it had never before occurred to me that Harry Potter was capable of death. Colour me surprised. In the face of Potter's death, I was, of course, prompted to consider my own mortality, which rendered me depressed and weepy. If Potter can die, then so can we all, so we had best make the most of the time we have. It was then that my life's plan unfurled in my mind, and I quickly shed my morose and reflective mood, and APPARATED!!!! to my solicitor Hannson Curmudgeon's office, a business plan taking shape mid-flight.

In the past twenty-four hours I have executed a hostile takeover buyout of the Isle of Drear FROM THE OTHER FAMILY IN QUESTION!!!!, and now am the sole possessor of the Deed of Ownership of the Isle of Drear, and all its many Quintapeds. This is neither the time, nor the situation to elaborate, but suffice it to say I find myself most determined at the prospects ahead of me.

Draco, I knew you would not bear ill will toward me for taking care of business matters before showing you that I can now Apparate, for I saw, once I reclaimed my journal, that your faith in me and my well-being was as strong as it ever has been -- it was good to go it alone. It brings into perspective what one wants when not alone.

There is something I wrote to you many months ago, that I wanted to say again, but when I went back to find the exact words, I noticed the ink in my journal is fast fading. I cannot see anything written before this last Christmas, and December and January's words are very faint.

Anyhow, Sarsparilla misses the lake at Hogwarts, so I'll see you there. Then we can decide where to go -- you do want to go with me, don't you?
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Comments:
[User Picture]From: pure_nobility
2005-07-05 03:55 am (UTC)
Oh, no, socks are fine. Wonderful. I was just Oh-ing about something else.

I missed you. I'm going to stop writing so that I can hurry and reach the lake.
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