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The Next Generation 2 George Weasley heard a loud bang coming from upstairs. He bounded up the stairs and burst open his son's bedroom door.
Fred Weasley the Second was on the floor, a firecracker in his hand. He was covered from head to foot in ashes, and his bronze hair was standing on end. He glanced nervously at his father.
"Freddy what on earth are you doing?" George exclaimed.
"Well " Fred began. "I was just playing around with this firecracker to see if I could make it do something cool."
George chucked. "You're just like your deceased uncle and I when we were kids," he said. "Your grandmother is sure going to like this." He sighed, remembering good times. "Maybe when you're older you can take over the shop?" He asked Fred.
His son's eyes widened in excitement. "Yeah!" Fred agreed. "But I still have to figure out this stupid firecracker!" He voice rose in frustration. "It's just not working right!" He complained.
"I can see yo
The Next Generation "James shouldn't you being doing your homework?" Harry asked his son, as he was sprinting out the door with his broomstick.
James came to a halt. "But dad, I was going to play Quiddich with Al!" He protested.
Harry sighed. "Alright just one game though; you still have that essay to do on Mandrakes for NevilleI mean Professor Longbottom."
"Yeah, I'll get around to it!" James yelled, as he ran out to the yard.
Harry watched them from the window. James was tossing golf balls to Albus, who flew around to catch them. It reminded him of his very first practice with Oliver Wood.
"They certainly have inherited our Quiddich skills," Ginny murmured from behind.
Harry turned around and smiled. "And my procrastination."
five hour energyi suppose
last week was only an aftershock
of the earthquake you were before.
this place used to vibrate
with metal strings and melodic,
testimonies to life,
emitting coffee-scented moods
and the burn of it too.
i had memorized the
sounds of silence,
i couldn't help but relish it.
no longer had i known
the sounds of folk
and scent of mocha-
you became nothing more
than an echo of the laughter
i so desperately needed to hear again.
then the echoes got louder,
bouncing ferociously off the walls
to be made manifest
i walked into your room
expecting exactly what i found-
an unmade bed,
and an empty beer
(the one that you insisted you needed
just days ago).
i pressed my nose
into the pillow
for incense and cologne and starbucks
to penetrate my mind
and thinking fervently
i already know
what a clean sheet smells like."
how strong an aftershock can be,
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More