Ravenclaw...
I figured, I could go the easy way, and write some more dark!Hufflepuff stuff, but this is supposed to be a challenge. So, Ravenclaw. I don't understand Ravenclaws. I like them, I just don't understand them. Now I understand them a little better.
Disclaimer: not mine
Rating: PG
Summary: If you just keep looking, maybe you'll find what you need.
Do you see him there? He travels between the stacks of this, his personal library. Books handed down through generations: fiction and high fantasy, biography and autobiography, grimoirs and grammaticas. On these shelves there are books in every language known to man. Any he doesn't already know how to read he will teach himself through charms and practice. This is his sanctuary and this is his home.
See there in the corner of the room? A bed has been made, and there is a couch set with pillows. A tall wing-backed chair with a small table for his meals sits. The table already has two books on it, one lying open above the other.
***
Look out side. See? The shadow is approaching. All must be made ready.
***
He has come here to research. Spells are needed, histories must be read, the past will not be repeated because he at least will learn from it.
The books rise up around him, leather cracked from age; the musty smell of old parchment and fading ink is everywhere.
***
The shadow comes ever closer. Already some have fallen.
***
"Terry? Terry, are you there?"
"Susan?"
"Yes Terry, it's me. Terry, have you found what we need?"
"No, not yet. I've got to keep looking."
"Terry, it may not be here. The knowledge may have been los..."
"Don't say it! Knowledge is not lost, only misplaced. That's why there are books. And anything that could have been lost can be recreated with time."
"I don't know how much time we have."
"It will be enough."
***
The books are impassive. They don
Disclaimer: not mine
Rating: PG
Summary: If you just keep looking, maybe you'll find what you need.
Do you see him there? He travels between the stacks of this, his personal library. Books handed down through generations: fiction and high fantasy, biography and autobiography, grimoirs and grammaticas. On these shelves there are books in every language known to man. Any he doesn't already know how to read he will teach himself through charms and practice. This is his sanctuary and this is his home.
See there in the corner of the room? A bed has been made, and there is a couch set with pillows. A tall wing-backed chair with a small table for his meals sits. The table already has two books on it, one lying open above the other.
***
Look out side. See? The shadow is approaching. All must be made ready.
***
He has come here to research. Spells are needed, histories must be read, the past will not be repeated because he at least will learn from it.
The books rise up around him, leather cracked from age; the musty smell of old parchment and fading ink is everywhere.
***
The shadow comes ever closer. Already some have fallen.
***
"Terry? Terry, are you there?"
"Susan?"
"Yes Terry, it's me. Terry, have you found what we need?"
"No, not yet. I've got to keep looking."
"Terry, it may not be here. The knowledge may have been los..."
"Don't say it! Knowledge is not lost, only misplaced. That's why there are books. And anything that could have been lost can be recreated with time."
"I don't know how much time we have."
"It will be enough."
***
The books are impassive. They don