09-28-2025, 12:24 PM
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#2 (permalink)
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SSRPG Admin Gladrags Mod Quibbler Mod



 Minister for Magic
 Alley Proprietor Sea Serpent
Join Date: Aug 2010 Location: The Paths
Posts: 41,523
Hogwarts RPG Name: Professor Cox Ravenclaw Graduated Hogwarts RPG Name: CJ Miller Gryffindor Fourth Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Nyle Harden Hufflepuff Seventh Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Iris Harden Ravenclaw Seventh Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Jae-hyuk Anouilh Slytherin Seventh Year Ministry Department Head:
Charles Hollingberry Minister's Office Ministry Department Head:
Airey Flamsteed Mysteries Diagon Alley Proprietor:
Victor García Massey Ollivanders
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| astronomizzle ♧ gryffinDORK | & the rest is drag ♣ #badluckDerf She had passed by this space numerous times over the years and only on a handful occasions had she stopped for any prolonged period of time to appease her curiosity. Today was one of those times and she had come armed with a notebook and an idea pilfered from her latest reading in which the very walls and air of the novel's setting seemed to hum with memory. If houses could 'remember' in Muggle fiction, then surely a room where actual ghosts gathered - and were, ironically, the life of the party - would have to reveal something measurable.
Disappointment met her at the threshold when no ghosts revealed themselves at first glance, but it did little to dampen the pull of her curiosity. Hugging her notebook tight to her chest, Iris traced a slow deliberate circumference of the room... pausing in each shadowed corner with her eyes shut as though listening for something just beyond ordinary senses. Once... twice... a third time she circumnavigated, her quill scratching in quick bursts across the open pages whenever some detail, feeling, or hypothesis demanded recording. Only when she was satisfied she had at least a baseline of impressions, did she finally claim a spot in the back left corner and lowered herself to the cool and dusty ground.
"...not sane, stood by itself against its hills, holding darkness within..." she mused to herself as she bent over her notes, sketching into the margin of the open page.
__________________ We broke into a million pieces, and we can't go back.........................................
But now we're seeing all the beauty in the broken glass..................................... 
The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony
My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like |
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