juxtapositions

Repulsed and revulsion:  Harry, Snape and Dumbledore

In HBP, there are two scenarios where Harry and Snape were under Dumbledore’s explicit instruction.  Their actions caused great harm to Dumbledore, but they each complied, as they knew it was necessary.

I love the comparison of how both characters are described in these two scenes.  The juxtaposition is a great clue by Rowling as to Snape’s true role.

Harry:

Harry and Dumbledore are in the cave, and Harry forces himself to do something that causes Dumbledore harm.  

Hating himself, repulsed by what he was doing, Harry forced the goblet back towards Dumbledore’s mouth and tipped it, so that Dumbledore drank the remainder of the potion inside.

Snape:

A handful of pages later, Snape is on the tower with Dumbledore, and Snape forces himself to do something that causes Dumbledore harm:

Snape gazed for a moment at Dumbledore, and there was revulsion and hatred etched in the harsh lines of his face.

anonymous asked:

For the good writer ask thing, 1, 4, and 9

1. of the fic you’ve written, which are you most proud of?

the fic I’m most proud of… I honestly think it’d have to either be Medicine or Peut être? I can’t choose between them. I love Medicine a lot ( though it’s not quite as popular as my other works ) simply because i love the dynamic I was able to establish with Chloe and Nathan, i liked seeing the juxtaposition between them, the hidden similarities that are often overlooked. They’re both super interesting characters to me.

Peut être just because I also loved the dynamic i was able to establish with alternate chasefield; alt!Max is very dear to my heart and I had a really good time writing her and exploring her emotions towards Victoria, and vice versa. it was cool!!

4. what are some themes you love writing about?

hhmm. i like writing about characters facing struggles :’) especially when it’s all internally, how they’re dealing w/ their emotions. I know that’s very vague but it’s the truth. I’m not very good with fluff!! I like being able to write character growing from their misfortunes or pushing through their current struggles. i guess in that sense i tackle darker themes a lot?? i dont want to sound edgy but yea h.. 

9. a passage from a WIP

I don’t really plan on finishing any of my current WIPS just because LiS has been a sore spot for me right now but! have some hellalujah.. pricemarsh B)

“Max isn’t here. Obviously. Max isn’t here, but someone else is– and Kate supposes that’s the reason why the seat is so suspiciously empty.

She was here for the first 15 minutes, slumped back against the seat and awkwardly shuffling through the bible. Kate did think there was something off about the way she tapped her boots against the floor, and she’d had to reach over, place her hand on her thigh to stop. Chloe had ducked her head down, apologetic, before rising from the seat.

“Be right back,” Chloe had mumbled into Kate’s ear, hunched over as if she were afraid she was blocking someone’s view. Right after, she’d slipped out of the pew and stalked out of sight.”

by juxtaposition

It had been a hasty kind of morning. Grantaire had slept through the night for the first time since the hospital, but it had made him an hour late and there was a train to catch with Abigail, who spent weekends at home. She had been standing in the doorway of his bedroom with her jackets and shoes already on, tapping her foot and huffing, since he’d started frantically flinging the last of his belongings into what seemed like too many bags. He wasn’t quite sure how he’d managed to accumulate so much of his stuff here in just a few months.

But the morning outside was heavenly, even if his hair was a mess and his clothes the first crumpled up t-shirt and jeans he’d got his hands on. It was early spring and the trees lining the pavement on the walk to the station were starting to blossom. The air was fresh, the sun promising to be warm. His parents seemed less worried to be saying goodbye to him than he’d worried they might be; he’d be seeing them again soon and had promised to call regularly.

And then before he knew it, he was back with Enjolras, waving goodbye to Abigail and heading back into the heart of the city again. He wanted to hold his hand but hesitated to reach for it. There were so many people around and the sudden noise was slightly disorientating after the relative peace of his parents’ house.

“I’m going to have to get used to sleeping to the sound of traffic again,” he said happily. His feet knew the way back home.