люблю все и не в посл очередь - то что есть прост и славн get lost без накруч тарантин вариаций

ээ because i can ? в смысле потому что люблю

"So," said Hermione one morning, "I've decided not to return to school next year." And that was how Harry found out that he was going back to Hogwarts


Wait, what?" said Ron.
"For eighth year," said Hermione, blinking.
"Oh," said Ron, blinking back.

"Wait, what?" said Harry


"You think I'm charming?" said Ron with a ridiculous leer.
"I think you're quite daft," said Hermione matter-of-factly ///////////// שלושה ניחושים - אמלין ? לא אכפת ליח רק כמה שיותר

I think they need time to learn how to trust me again." //////////////// איפה יש ילדים כאלה - שכן אכפת להם מההורים ענייני אמון במשפחה ובלה-בלה-בלה

Harry stared. "Ginny, she's my best friend."
"No, Harry," Ginny snapped, "your best friend should be your girlfriend


Why would I want to go to a party for her?"

"Oh, I don't know," said Ginny. "Why would you possibly want to do something nice for a girl who lost her life fighting in your battle against Voldemort — "
"It wasn't my battle, Ginny, it was everyone's. And that's my point. It's not her birthday! She's dead!"
"That doesn't mean you can't celebrate her life!"
"I can celebrate her life better by not wallowing in grief!"
"Wallowing? It's a birthday party!"



mean, she kissed me last Christmas," he said confusedly.
"Yeah," said Neville. "She told me about that." Then his face went red. "Last year, I mean."
Harry looked at Ron, and then they both slowly looked at Neville.
"Neville," said Harry, "why would Ginny tell you?"
"What Harry's asking," said Fred cheerily, "is if you've been moving in on his not-girlfriend while he's been not-dating her."
"It wasn't like that!" Harry protested, though he suddenly had a feeling it was more or less exactly like that.




"Um, are you okay?" Ron was sort of fuzzy at the edges, just the opposite of Fred's painting. Alcohol was tricky.


"Yeah? Why wouldn't I be?" said Ron, like he couldn't imagine being anything else. He sounded so convincing it took Harry a second to remember why he was — oh, right, his brother was dead.


Harry suddenly saw Fred's face as he died, his laugh caught permanently in his throat. Instantly his head felt clear.


"You sure there's nothing you want to talk about?" he said to Ron.


"Nope," said Ron








What's wrong with you?" said Draco, stopping in front of him. Then he spotted the bottles. "Oh. You're drunk," he said. He wrinkled his nose.


"No," said Harry. "I was drunk. Then I sobered up long enough to make an idiot of myself. And now I am actively getting drunk again."


"You mean the great Harry Potter indulges in drunken revelry?" said Malfoy. "Shocking."


"No," said Harry. "I had a reason."


"Do tell," said Malfoy, folding his hands in his robes and looking smug.


"Well," said Harry, "at first it was because my girlfriend just dumped me. Or... something. Then it was because one of my friends is dead, and my other friend is going off his rocker because of it, and I can't do anything to help him."


"Well," said Draco, "my girlfriend hasn't spoken to me since she led my entire house out the front door of the castle and then never came back, one of my friends was killed at Hogwarts and is now hiding somewhere where I'll never be able to find him and he'll be some sort of miserable troll for the rest of his death-time, and my other friend is also going off his rocker, only I can't do anything to help him because he's doing it in Azkaban."


Harry wordlessly passed him a bottle of Firewhisky.


Draco took it and slumped down the wall beside him. He glared at Harry, but it was probably more for old times' sake than for anything else, Harry figured — his way of saying 'bottoms up,' maybe.


He took a swig. Harry did too.


"D'you just make that into a contest?" Harry asked after a moment.


"No," said Draco. He took another drink. "Maybe."


"Call it a tie," said Harry.


They drank again. The floor was starting to swim less, which could have meant that he was sobering up, or maybe just that he was concentrating harder.












Harry Potter

18 yrs old, Auror-in-training, hero & all-around decent chap ///////////////////////////это то что на русск идет как - звенящ капелью норма - ну примерно также как неизбывн вечн женствен-ть - кот в немецк идет как самкость





Won't you need help?"

Malfoy went rigid all over, the way he had when they'd been drinking the other night. "I'm good at charms," is all he said. //////////////////////////a я -то думала он поднимает на штык в пылу спора люб подначку - а на сам деле наверняка это чертово - "дебил" для него та сам красн тряпка, несчаст мозоль








Well, well," said Malfoy. "If one didn't know any better, one would think you trying to assimilate me, Potter."


"It's not that," said Harry. "I just." He stopped and tried to remember how Hermione had put it.


"You?" said Malfoy patiently.


"Um," said Harry





Our house is gone," said Malfoy, his voice going up sharply in pitch. "There's no one here except for me and you. If you don't come back I'll — it'll just be me."


"But I'm just a painting," said Crabbe.


"You're not," said Malfoy








Uh," said Harry, feeling the tips of his ears burning. "I don't think he'd like that much."


Parvati shrugged. "You've done it before," she said. "Didn't think it was that big a deal."


"It isn't," Harry said, too quickly. She was right. He'd talked to Malfoy before in public. At dinner, even. It wasn't a big deal.


But he'd had a purpose then. Now it would be like — like he just wanted to say hi. Like they were friends.


"Well, whatever," said Parvati. "But your ex has been trying to figure out who you've been staring at for the last ten minutes. If I were you I'd talk to him just so you don't give her the wrong idea."


Harry stilled and deliberately didn't look over at Ginny. "Thanks," he said.


She shrugged again. "Unless it's the right idea."


"Sorry?" said Harry, but she'd returned to reading her book











Beside him, Malfoy wasn't even trying not to snicker. Harry kicked him under the table.















"And any girl you use it on would hex you into a million pieces," said Harry.


"Forget using it on a girl," said Ron dreamily. "I'd use it on Malfoy. Could you imagine?" Harry did, and laughed.


"No worries, mate," he said. "I've got Malfoy covered." Ron gave him a look, but said nothing.


The day his order arrived, Harry got Fred to show him how to combine the new mail-order exclusive Arachknit with a hover charm — which he then launched on Draco Malfoy, who shrieked like a little girl in the middle of Potions.


This ultimately proved unfortunate, as Harry was laughing too much to call the spider off. After Malfoy flung it away, it sailed gracefully around the room and dropped at last on Parvati's head. It tried to eat her, wool pincers scrabbling furiously. She rolled her eyes, scraped it off with her wand, and dropped it into her cauldron.


The cauldron began to belch billowing chunks of soot and smoke out into the classroom. "Oh, dear," said Slughorn, and something like a screeching mass exodus took place.


What was left of the doomed tarantula lurched out of the cauldron, borne aloft on a lava-lit plume of fire, and landed directly on top of Slughorn's patiently brewing Incendius potion.


Whereupon the room promptly exploded.





Harry reminded himself that he'd sort-of killed Voldemort and received an Order of Merlin, and he and Ron had their own Chocolate Frog cards, and therefore they were not likely to get expelled during their last year at Hogwarts.

"Er," he said. "It's like this, Professor."
McGonagall gave him a look he knew from long experience, and he closed his mouth.




Harry didn't know quite what it meant about himself that he noticed the difference between polished and unpolished Malfoys.






I hope you don't mind," said Luna. "I gave it a few extra touches."


She had painted a beautiful four-poster bed, elegant in every way, except for the giant lavender starbursts all over the canopy. Oh, and the fact that it was on the ceiling.


"We can just — uh, turn it right-side up," said Harry. "I'm sure it will be fine."


Malfoy sent him a look of incredulity over Luna's head. Harry tried to telegraph, 'It's just Luna, you know, that girl your dad tortured for a few months,' and probably failed. Luna looked at Malfoy. "You should make one for the dragon, too," she said. "I would have drawn mine out of grass, but I wasn't sure the frame would fit an Antipodean Opaleye."


Malfoy said, "That's okay, I drew mine out of lollipops," and then turned his back on her, muttering things. Harry tried not to laugh and probably failed at that too.










You have to paint it first," said Luna. "Most people use chromative oil paint. I prefer watercolours, myself, but that works better for painting ghosts."


She swiped her brush into the jar she had brought, and painted Harry's bed a bright purple. Each brush stroke seemed to quiver as it met the canvas, and the more she painted, the more Harry's bed began to gain shape. By the time she was finished, it had a mattress, and a headboard, two giant pillows, and four stout legs.


Soblessa beamed at them and sank onto it. "It feels like goose feathers!"


"Great," said Malfoy, coming up behind them. "Now we just have to do that six thousand more times."


"Six thousand, one hundred and fifty-five," Harry corrected. "Plus one for the dragon."


"Or you could just do this," said Luna, and with a wave of her wand, she copied Harry's giant purple bed onto three more canvases.


Harry and Malfoy exchanged glances.


"Brilliant, Luna," said Harry, and saw with satisfaction that Malfoy agreed.






You can't name your owl 'Owl,' Potter, don't be ridiculous."


Harry and Draco were walking back from the Quidditch shed. The first snow of the year had fallen the previous evening, and while it was only barely enough to shade the ground, it made Harry feel alive. Term would be over in just a few weeks; he'd see Hermione — finally, he'd see Hermione, and maybe she could talk some sense into Ron, and the three of them could be themselves again.


It was almost Christmas. He was thinking of getting Draco a gift just to watch his nose crinkle in pretend disgust.



















Atop the whole resided the bright orange blob of what would have been its flaming red Weasley hair.


"He didn't," said Harry in slow dawning horror, to no one in particular. "Tell me he didn't."


"He was a madman!" said one of the portraits. "A madman with a paintbrush!"


"We begged him to stop," said another.


"Fred was so angry, but he wouldn't listen!"


"He kept saying, 'This will make everything better! Now you won't have to be alone!'"


"It was horrible!"


Harry stepped forward and stared. The figure stared back with his terrible circles for eyes, and waved a paint globule in greeting.


Over his shoulder, he heard Draco say brightly to Crabbe, "Now, see? Wasn't this worth sticking around for?" and Harry leaned against Fred's frame and laughed because there was nothing else to do.




There was one thing left Harry could do.
He owled Hermione.





You're eating my lunch," said Harry. "Is that part of the privilege?"


"No," said Draco, muffled through all the peas. "That's just because you like me."


Harry smiled before he could help it. Draco's mouth went lopsided when he saw it, and Harry's smile got bigger.
























mne nravitsja ili skoree menja podsadili na Drako - detku tot zhe Trade i Florahart estesv i nevin jegocent /i razum-sja Abaddon/

//Fuck you," Draco snarls when they're through the door, and just keeps repeating himself, over and over again. "Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you."

Harry steps around him because he's no threat, and meets Draco's words with a backhand across his face that makes Draco's ears ring, his eyes see stars and the copper tang of blood seep into his mouth from a cut lip.

"Tried that, didn't we?" and he gazes around the circle of Aurors like he expects one of them to make a smart remark, like they're his enemy here and not Draco. "Wasn't too successful."

.........................../////////
dazhe portret Dr tot chto pomn - tot gde obraz Dr nakladyv na scenku iz "sekr ischezn sada" - tazhe samaja grimasa - nahm i zloj i neschastn i vse proch/ nadmen i nepr bolezn zaostrennost/ odnovremenno - tonen'k ruchki nozhki i cvetu

nu i chto - razve moja privjazan k odnomu opredel fandomn tipu meshala naslazhd vsemi prochimi ~ne tvoimi` fikami - da ni razu