This is where it gets a little strange...
Tuesday, 23 April 2013
Party Vlog!
One of my friends turned 18 and we just had to celebrate this momentous occasion... It was fabulous.
OH! Almost Forgot!
Have a chapter of my upcoming short novel on the life of Albus Dumbledore. I'm neither pro Elphias Doge or pro Rita Skeeter. It is a prequel to J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter. I'm not sure whether it is LEGAL to write about someone elses creation. I guess you would call it average fanfic. But quite frankly this is my baby and I think that this will be the story to launch me into the book business as it were. Please be as critical as you want!
Dumbledore
Chapter one – If Walls Could Talk
The longest day of the year was finally coming to an end. As the sun took its last breaths before drowning in the horizon over Godric’s Hollow, the few beams of light left danced joyfully over the clay-tiled roofs as though welcoming the moon. Albus stretched lazily across the doorway in which he was situated, mimicking the behaviour of a nearby cat absorbing the fine rays. The doorway in which he was stretched was hardly noticeable if one were to examine the fine, colourful doors that lined the rest of the street. However, on a rare second glance, passersby could make out the peeling oak varnish which exposed a city of woodworm underneath. Albus picked at the decay with indifference. With a drained expression, Albus lolled his head back to rest against the cold, stone pillars that framed that mysterious little door. Any other day he would have chuckled at the strange movements coming from his neighbour’s curtains, the sidewalk filled with heightened whispers as they reached his house, the hurrying of heels against dirt, the sense of fear and unknown. But today he just sat. Sat and faced away from the world. Faint sobs could be heard from behind the dilapidated walls of his home, but Albus did not stir. He was in a world of his own.
Just at that moment there came the echo of heavy footsteps stomping closer and closer. In climax to the quickened pace the door flew open, creating such an impact with Albus’ already aching head that he was launched off the porch. Albus’ hand flew to his head where he found a mountainous lump that had not been there a few seconds ago. He winced and swivelled his body around in anguish to find the perpetrator only to catch a glimpse of the creaking gate as it swung off its hinges and a wisp of mouse-brown hair disappearing around the corner of the street. Albus sighed inwardly. This was the third time this week that Abeforth, his ruffian of a brother had fought with Kendra, their mother. Ever since Albus’ Father had been thrown into Azkaban for his assault on a couple of muggle boys, the atmosphere at the Dumbledore’s family home had changed from one extreme to another. Most days the house would remain deathly quiet. Only the clattering of pans in the kitchen or the scuffling of feet from upstairs could be heard. But every now and then the house would be too silent, like the calm before a storm. And like that, a volcano of shouts, screams and sobs would erupt; leading to either Kendra or Abeforth storming out.
Albus swore many things upon Merlin whilst soothing the searing pain that was quickly infecting his vision and balance. Absentmindedly, he began to pluck daisies from the grass he had landed on and watched them as they were set ablaze and then quickly smouldered. What was it about his family that brought out the worst in him? Albus’ family held immense power and yet whilst he was around them his magic reduced to measly party tricks. Albus’ mind fought back to what he had learnt in Transfiguration last term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…
“Elphias! We do NOT try to play our whistles from inappropriate bodily crevices!” cried Professor Wenlock, waving his wand frantically in front of Elphias Doge’s glowing, red face. The whole class roared with laughter as Elphias sank a little lower in his chair until his nose was level with the desk.
“Now, let’s try again shall we? Everyone together now: One… Two… Three! Cantantesio tempi!”
In a matter of seconds the glistening whistles that had been lying lifeless on the desks transformed into magnificent golden watches. The class stared in awe as the clock chimed 2 o’clock and as it did so, the watches erupted in joyful, yet slightly tuneless song. “It’s two o’clock, tick tock! It’s two o’clock, tick tock!” Albus observed proudly as his watch danced marvellously around the classroom, standing out uniquely as the rest of the watches bobbed happily up and down on the spot.
Albus, beamed at the recollection, but quickly fell back down to the present with a thump. Hearing the sudden choke which was clearly meant to sound more like a firm cough, Albus’ head snapped up, and with a groan he regretted it instantly. Still recovering from the harsh blow given generously by the door, Albus stared directly into his mother’s icy eyes. Kendra was a tall, stern looking woman. Her cheekbones stuck out majestically and her dark hair had been forced into a tight, almost painful looking bun that strained her hairline so much it was almost receding. She wore a tight, black, pencil skirt which restricted the circulation from the bottom of her knees upward. Her pristine white shirt was buttoned all the way up her neck and covered the length of her arms. Although her eyes mimicked the piercing stare in Albus’, the redness around the edges gave away the fact that she had been crying.
“Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. In. Now.”
Kendra was always very curt. Albus, knowing simply walking wouldn’t be quick enough for his mother, apparated in a flash up to his bedroom. Albus knew better than to cross his mother. There was never a rainbow after the Dumbledores had stormed. Albus plonked himself down in the middle of his room. His bedroom was strangely cylindrical and therefore if he sat in the centre of his room, it felt like he could control everything around him. That’s how he liked it; to be in command of his life.
“Accio quill.” Albus watched miserably as the quill that would usually zoom into his ready hand, trembled feebly on his desk. Lately he had been too exhausted to so much as produce a spark from his wand. His homework was getting sloppy, despite the amount of effort and motivation he always put in to his studies. He needed to smell the smoke of The Hogwarts Express, a magnificent scarlet train, as it chugged into view. In sudden desperation, Albus launched himself at his desk and began attacking a piece of parchment with his newly purchased quill from Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley. Albus drooled at the thought of returning there in a few weeks. But in the mean time, he would have to make do with the company of Elphias Doge; a quiet, young boy he had met in his first year at Hogwarts. With the recent rumours that Albus was a ‘muggle-hater’ like his father Percival, and Elphias’ noticeable case of Dragon Pox, both boys were outsiders. Albus had to pay Elphias a visit. It was of upmost importance that they sort out their plans to travel the globe. There were so many places Albus wished to visit. He wanted to explore the ancient pyramids and what curses had been set in place by the old wizards in order to protect treasures from the muggles. He needed to visit the vast mountains of Peru to witness the thundering giants on their annual migration.
Signing off the letter with a scruffy ‘Best Regards’, Albus slipped the piece of parchment into a slightly yellowing envelope and sealed it with the tip of his wand. Just at that moment he heard a soft thud on top of his window sill. Albus looked up to find Abelena – his nifty little messenger. Abelena was a fine Nothern Hawk Owl. Her beak was sharp and noble, as were her eyes, a glimmering gold. Swiftly, she stuck out her leg expectantly whilst at the same time letting her extremely fresh vole drop to the floor and scuttle into Albus’ ready packed and organised school trunk.
“Oh, for the love of Merlin’s saggy, left-” Albus cried as he dived into the trunk after the small rodent; sending books, quills, parchment and clothes rocketing to different continents of his room.
After that commotion, Abelena launched herself off the window sill towards the stars above in a quest for a lonely Elphias; who was, as Albus imagined, sitting at home attempting to turn his pet rat into a regal bird of some sort. Albus chortled to himself for the first time in ages at the hope of seeing his one and only link to the outside world. Those few laugh lines were smoothed out almost instantly by a crash and a multitude of high-pitched whizzing noises coming from the kitchen below. Albus sat absolutely still and let the sounds of his mother sobbing, Abeforth screaming and a third human sound fill his unwilling ears. It was not coherent words; neither was it any other sound on Earth. But the third participant in this uproar was by far the loudest in Albus’ head. Ariana, Kendra’s first and only daughter; a seemingly soft and simple girl had erupted. And Albus knew that this time devastation had been created. In a sudden explosion, half of Albus’ cylindrical floor was torn apart leaving a gaping hole. Albus crept slowly towards the hole, following the sound of a strangled cry. What Albus saw next did not register with his brain. From out of the rubble and wood there stuck out a long, slender hand wearing his mother’s red ruby encrusted ring. As the strangled cry choked to a halt, the dust surrounding the devastation danced tauntingly on Kendra’s lifeless palm.
Just at that moment there came the echo of heavy footsteps stomping closer and closer. In climax to the quickened pace the door flew open, creating such an impact with Albus’ already aching head that he was launched off the porch. Albus’ hand flew to his head where he found a mountainous lump that had not been there a few seconds ago. He winced and swivelled his body around in anguish to find the perpetrator only to catch a glimpse of the creaking gate as it swung off its hinges and a wisp of mouse-brown hair disappearing around the corner of the street. Albus sighed inwardly. This was the third time this week that Abeforth, his ruffian of a brother had fought with Kendra, their mother. Ever since Albus’ Father had been thrown into Azkaban for his assault on a couple of muggle boys, the atmosphere at the Dumbledore’s family home had changed from one extreme to another. Most days the house would remain deathly quiet. Only the clattering of pans in the kitchen or the scuffling of feet from upstairs could be heard. But every now and then the house would be too silent, like the calm before a storm. And like that, a volcano of shouts, screams and sobs would erupt; leading to either Kendra or Abeforth storming out.
Albus swore many things upon Merlin whilst soothing the searing pain that was quickly infecting his vision and balance. Absentmindedly, he began to pluck daisies from the grass he had landed on and watched them as they were set ablaze and then quickly smouldered. What was it about his family that brought out the worst in him? Albus’ family held immense power and yet whilst he was around them his magic reduced to measly party tricks. Albus’ mind fought back to what he had learnt in Transfiguration last term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry…
“Elphias! We do NOT try to play our whistles from inappropriate bodily crevices!” cried Professor Wenlock, waving his wand frantically in front of Elphias Doge’s glowing, red face. The whole class roared with laughter as Elphias sank a little lower in his chair until his nose was level with the desk.
“Now, let’s try again shall we? Everyone together now: One… Two… Three! Cantantesio tempi!”
In a matter of seconds the glistening whistles that had been lying lifeless on the desks transformed into magnificent golden watches. The class stared in awe as the clock chimed 2 o’clock and as it did so, the watches erupted in joyful, yet slightly tuneless song. “It’s two o’clock, tick tock! It’s two o’clock, tick tock!” Albus observed proudly as his watch danced marvellously around the classroom, standing out uniquely as the rest of the watches bobbed happily up and down on the spot.
Albus, beamed at the recollection, but quickly fell back down to the present with a thump. Hearing the sudden choke which was clearly meant to sound more like a firm cough, Albus’ head snapped up, and with a groan he regretted it instantly. Still recovering from the harsh blow given generously by the door, Albus stared directly into his mother’s icy eyes. Kendra was a tall, stern looking woman. Her cheekbones stuck out majestically and her dark hair had been forced into a tight, almost painful looking bun that strained her hairline so much it was almost receding. She wore a tight, black, pencil skirt which restricted the circulation from the bottom of her knees upward. Her pristine white shirt was buttoned all the way up her neck and covered the length of her arms. Although her eyes mimicked the piercing stare in Albus’, the redness around the edges gave away the fact that she had been crying.
“Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. In. Now.”
Kendra was always very curt. Albus, knowing simply walking wouldn’t be quick enough for his mother, apparated in a flash up to his bedroom. Albus knew better than to cross his mother. There was never a rainbow after the Dumbledores had stormed. Albus plonked himself down in the middle of his room. His bedroom was strangely cylindrical and therefore if he sat in the centre of his room, it felt like he could control everything around him. That’s how he liked it; to be in command of his life.
“Accio quill.” Albus watched miserably as the quill that would usually zoom into his ready hand, trembled feebly on his desk. Lately he had been too exhausted to so much as produce a spark from his wand. His homework was getting sloppy, despite the amount of effort and motivation he always put in to his studies. He needed to smell the smoke of The Hogwarts Express, a magnificent scarlet train, as it chugged into view. In sudden desperation, Albus launched himself at his desk and began attacking a piece of parchment with his newly purchased quill from Flourish and Blotts in Diagon Alley. Albus drooled at the thought of returning there in a few weeks. But in the mean time, he would have to make do with the company of Elphias Doge; a quiet, young boy he had met in his first year at Hogwarts. With the recent rumours that Albus was a ‘muggle-hater’ like his father Percival, and Elphias’ noticeable case of Dragon Pox, both boys were outsiders. Albus had to pay Elphias a visit. It was of upmost importance that they sort out their plans to travel the globe. There were so many places Albus wished to visit. He wanted to explore the ancient pyramids and what curses had been set in place by the old wizards in order to protect treasures from the muggles. He needed to visit the vast mountains of Peru to witness the thundering giants on their annual migration.
Signing off the letter with a scruffy ‘Best Regards’, Albus slipped the piece of parchment into a slightly yellowing envelope and sealed it with the tip of his wand. Just at that moment he heard a soft thud on top of his window sill. Albus looked up to find Abelena – his nifty little messenger. Abelena was a fine Nothern Hawk Owl. Her beak was sharp and noble, as were her eyes, a glimmering gold. Swiftly, she stuck out her leg expectantly whilst at the same time letting her extremely fresh vole drop to the floor and scuttle into Albus’ ready packed and organised school trunk.
“Oh, for the love of Merlin’s saggy, left-” Albus cried as he dived into the trunk after the small rodent; sending books, quills, parchment and clothes rocketing to different continents of his room.
After that commotion, Abelena launched herself off the window sill towards the stars above in a quest for a lonely Elphias; who was, as Albus imagined, sitting at home attempting to turn his pet rat into a regal bird of some sort. Albus chortled to himself for the first time in ages at the hope of seeing his one and only link to the outside world. Those few laugh lines were smoothed out almost instantly by a crash and a multitude of high-pitched whizzing noises coming from the kitchen below. Albus sat absolutely still and let the sounds of his mother sobbing, Abeforth screaming and a third human sound fill his unwilling ears. It was not coherent words; neither was it any other sound on Earth. But the third participant in this uproar was by far the loudest in Albus’ head. Ariana, Kendra’s first and only daughter; a seemingly soft and simple girl had erupted. And Albus knew that this time devastation had been created. In a sudden explosion, half of Albus’ cylindrical floor was torn apart leaving a gaping hole. Albus crept slowly towards the hole, following the sound of a strangled cry. What Albus saw next did not register with his brain. From out of the rubble and wood there stuck out a long, slender hand wearing his mother’s red ruby encrusted ring. As the strangled cry choked to a halt, the dust surrounding the devastation danced tauntingly on Kendra’s lifeless palm.
Huge catch-up in order
So it's been quite a while since my last post. I have been very busy since then *grumbles unintelligibly about A levels*.
HAVE SOME VLOGS!
HAVE SOME VLOGS!
Wednesday, 21 March 2012
Long Time, No... Er, Type?
I can't believe how long it's been since my last post. I also found the scarcity of vlogs on my YouTube channel (TheHollysaur) more than a little disturbing. My sincerest apologies to the people that DO actually follow and enjoy my online publishings, although I think we must all agree that to follow the publishings of someone as averagely boring as me must mean you're all pretty sad people.
I keed, I keed! I LOVE my followers... Even if I probably don't have any... (Has been checking her blogger stats regularly and been disappointed each time).
I'm in photography class right now. Once I've done my exam I will no longer be taking A Level photography. I do adore photography. I love capturing everything I find interesting. But the classes are no way near what I was expecting. It put unnecessary strain on my shoulders to take so many photos, not to mention the cost of printing! I think I'm much better off as photography being a sweet little hobby of mine.
I seem to have forgotten that this blog is meant to be for ICT classes. But to be honest, I don't care anymore. I love writing for the fun of it. It's why I took English Language, WHICH by the way, is going pretty well I THINK. Although I need to do a lot of work. If I publish my coursework so far on here I wonder if anyone will give me feedback or even read it...? If there is anyone out there, I'd appreciate a comment if you want me to publish my coursework and give me feedback, thank you!
Here is my most recent shoot based on Mods and Rockers in the swinging 60s (that model is my gorgeous boyfriend):
I keed, I keed! I LOVE my followers... Even if I probably don't have any... (Has been checking her blogger stats regularly and been disappointed each time).
I'm in photography class right now. Once I've done my exam I will no longer be taking A Level photography. I do adore photography. I love capturing everything I find interesting. But the classes are no way near what I was expecting. It put unnecessary strain on my shoulders to take so many photos, not to mention the cost of printing! I think I'm much better off as photography being a sweet little hobby of mine.
I seem to have forgotten that this blog is meant to be for ICT classes. But to be honest, I don't care anymore. I love writing for the fun of it. It's why I took English Language, WHICH by the way, is going pretty well I THINK. Although I need to do a lot of work. If I publish my coursework so far on here I wonder if anyone will give me feedback or even read it...? If there is anyone out there, I'd appreciate a comment if you want me to publish my coursework and give me feedback, thank you!
Here is my most recent shoot based on Mods and Rockers in the swinging 60s (that model is my gorgeous boyfriend):
Monday, 20 February 2012
SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE - MY HALF TERM HAS BEEN STOLEN!
I'm sorry but whoever's sick joke it was to give us A Level students a nice half term and then bombard us all with coursework and essays should be burnt with my furiously flaming fingers from the amount of typing I've been doing.
BOMBARDA (In Hermione Granger's words)
(PSSSSSSHT! CLICK THE PICTURE!)
Hope the rest of the year 12s&13s had a better half term than I.
Well, should be getting on with this mountain of work - see you on the other side.
BOMBARDA (In Hermione Granger's words)
Hope the rest of the year 12s&13s had a better half term than I.
Well, should be getting on with this mountain of work - see you on the other side.
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