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Chapter Three

All throughout their patrol, it was all James could do to keep his attention (and eyes) on the task at hand. He was still going over the hora before patrol in his head, trying to make sense of it. Lily Evans, always the stoic one, afraid? It was hard to get his head around. Lily had always been the one to keep her head in the most panic-worthy of situations – like the time she found out that Remus is a werewolf.

It had been a particularly difficult full moon, the last one of their sixth año at Hogwarts. Wolf-Remus had been más vicious than usual and both James and Sirius were sporting various wounds in different stages of blood clotting. They were trying – in vain – to restrain him before he did any más damage to himself, the Shrieking Shack o them, when finally dawn began to break and Remus began the difficult transformation back to his human self. James and Sirius settled down to watch, slightly wary. Sometimes, the aggression didn't quite fade away with the breaking of a new day, and even in his human form Remus would struggle against them, biting and scratching even in his weakened state. So far, tonight had had all the signs of one of those times.
Fifteen minutos later, Remus lay in a trembling heap on the ground, human again but not really looking it. o actuación it – sure enough, as soon as James and Sirius, also in their human forms, got close enough, he began to snarl in a threatening manner.
“Relax, mate, it's just us. Moony? It's just us. Prongs and Padfoot.”
Snarl.
“Come on, mate we gotta go. Gotta get tu up to the hospital wing.” Sirius jumped in. They were sort of circling around Remus, trying to get closer without making him threatened enough to attack – it had been known to happen. James signalled to Sirius, and wordlessly counted to three; on the third they pounced, restraining Remus as best they could, and still he struggled. James raised his eyebrows at Sirius, and he nodded: tonight was an extreme case. Sirius dug out his wand and whispered, “
Stupefy!
James hated having to Stun Remus, but some nights it was a necessity. There was no way they were going to get him up to the hospital wing with him struggling like that... but Madam Pomfrey was probably going to kill them.
They made their slow way to the base of the Whomping Willow, and James reached out his had to press the tiny knob that froze the branches. Usually that was Peter's job, Peter in his tiny rata form... but Peter wasn't around, they hadn't seen him for days. James hoped he hadn't gotten himself into trouble, but he had más important issues at hand. This was always the hardest part, getting an often unconscious Remus through the hole at the base of the árbol and into Hogwarts grounds. This time, however, something was different...
Lily Evans was standing siguiente to the entrance of the tunnel, waiting with a stretcher and two bottles of water.
“I thought tu might need these,” she dicho simply when she saw James' dumbfounded expression. “Come on, let's get Remus up to the hospital wing, tu can stutter out your preguntas later.” She handed the water to the boys and helped them out of the hole before turning to Remus and heaving him out with surprising strength. “Guys, honestly. What's up? Do I look funny? Is something wrong?”
Silence.
“All right, then, why don't tu help me with this battered werewolf? He needs medical attention, tu know. As do you,” she added, eyeing the boys' cuts and bruises disapprovingly, and turning her attention back to Remus, now lying on the ground. The boys watched with open amazement as she sighed and levitated him onto the stretcher – apparently her strength wasn't limitless. With a last look over her shoulder, she started to guide the stretcher up to the castle, trusting the boys to follow her.
Finally, James' brain began to work again. “Hey! Evans! Evans, wait up!”
Exasperated sigh. “What now, Potter?”
“You can't just go barging into the castillo like that. People will see –“
“Honestly, Potter, here I thought tu were smart. It's the crack of dawn, for Merlin's sake! And anyway, I cloaked us. tu two are the only people who can see me o this stretcher.”
“Huh. Guess you're más than just a pretty face, Evans, yeah?”
Sirius walked up behind me. “Prongs, mate, if tu haven't figured that out yet... you're screwed.” Evans just looked amused.
“Guys? The hospital wing?”
“Oh, right. Lead the way, fair lady!” James dicho with a mock bow, earning him another, equally exasperated sigh.


He smiled as he remembered the day.
“Knut for your thoughts?” Lily asked.
“Huh? Oh, I was just remembering the time tu found out about Moony's... condition.”
“Oh, tu mean the time tu guys were so dumbstruck someone had figured out your great secret that I had to drag poor Remus up to the hospital wing all por myself?”
“Yeah, that would be the one.”
“But did tu honestly think no one would ever figure it out?”
“Um... yes?”
Lily laughed. “Well, you're lucky not everybody is as smart as me, then.”
“That we are. But hey. tu never did tell us – what tipped tu off?”
“You mean apart from the fact that a) there's only so many times tu can visit your sick insert relative here at full moon, b) few normal humans are afraid of full moons and c) tu call him Moony?”
“... right. So tu just, what, followed us one beautiful full moon?”
“No, silly. It's not like I'd put myself in the line of fuego – I watched from the window until I saw a wolf, a ciervo, despedidas de soltero and a dog disappear through the hole at the base of the Whomping Willow.” When she mentioned the ciervo, despedidas de soltero and the dog, James' expression froze noticably. Lily continued in an innocent tone, “Does Dumbledore know, por the way? That tu two – and probably Peter too – are illegal Animagi?”
“About that... do tu think tu could, maybe, not tell him?”
“Who do tu think I am, Severus?” James noted the obvious distaste with which she dicho the name of her former best friend and smiled to himself. He almost missed Lily continuing her sentence. “I'm not going to run to Dumbledore. Anyway, that's pretty impressive magic, turning yourself into an Animagus. How in the world did Peter manage?”
“He nearly didn't,” James dicho with a laugh. “The first time he changed, he nearly became a rata forever.”
“McGonagall would probably have been proud,” she said, with just the tiniest hint of sarcasm. “But. My silence has one condition: you'll let me come with tu on full moons.” All the humour was now gone from her expression.
“Lily, did tu not listen in third-year Defence Against the Dark Arts? hombres lobo are vicious during the full moon. They don't differentiate between friend and foe. Remus would tear tu limb from limb.”
“But that's just the thing: from what I've seen, tu guys get pretty torn up too. So what I'm proposing is this: tu let me wait for tu outside the passage, so in case tu need back-up, someone knows where tu are. So that if... if tu don't come back at dawn, there'll be someone to alert Dumbledore.”
“Look, Lily, I'm touched that you'd do that for us... but it's too dangerous. What if we can't keep him in the Shack?”
“James, your concern is appreciated and all, but have tu ever seen me Stun anyone? Not to toot my own horn o anything.”
“Come to think of it... no, I haven't.”
“Well, let's just say tu don't want me to demonstrate it on you.” She looked him square in the eye. “So. Deal o no deal?”
“I'm going to have to talk it over with Sirius – and Remus is going to be extremely against this idea – but I say deal.”
“It better be.”

–––––––

James had been right: Sirius was against the idea because Lily was a girl, and specifically James' all-time dream girl, which was bound to equal distraction, and Remus because he didn't want to risk harming another person. Peter was not present, which was honestly not that surprising – they were seeing less and less of him that year.
“Guys, honestly. I don't know about you, but I'd feel better knowing there was someone that had our back – and Padfoot, before tu start, it's not just because it's Lily.”
“Really?”
“Yes! Really. And besides, she dicho she'd go to Dumbledore if we didn't let her.”
“She dicho that?” Remus asked, his unwillingness clear in his expression.
“Well... not exactly. Not in those words. But it was very clearly implied.”
“As in...?”
“As in, 'My silence has one condition.'”
“Oh. So we pretty much have no choice?”
“I would say so.”
“Fine. But that doesn't mean I like it. What if she's seen?”
“She won't be – I'll leave her my Cloak.”
“And does she know she'll be left the Cloak?”
“As of right now? Nope.”
“Ah. Well, tu better go tell her we agreed before we change our minds, Prongs.” James gave them a grateful smile before leaving his old dorm and heading towards the Heads' Quarters, a slight spring in his step.

––––––––

“So they agreed.” Lily stated, a triumphant expression on her face.
“Yeah, but there's one thing: tu can't be seen.”
“Why?”
“And here I thought tu were más than just a pretty face...” James teased, earning him a tortazo on the arm. “Anyway, don't tu think people would wonder if they saw tu sitting out the night por the Whomping Willow once a month?”
“You do have a point. But no worries, I can do a decent Disillusionment Charm.”
“Ah, but tu don't need to,” he dicho mysteriously.
“How else do tu suggest on making me invisible, then?”
Wordlessly, James pulled the Invisibility capa out of his school robes.
“James – is that – an Invisibility Cloak?”
He drew it around himself, leaving only his head visible. “Does this answer your question?”
“It – yes. But is it an actual Invisibility Cloak? Not just a normal capa with some charm cast on it? But... however did tu get it?”
“It's been in family for ages and ages, and it's still going strong – so I guess it must be real, not that I ever thought about it.”
“So I suppose now I know how you've managed all your pranks?”
“Yep.”
“And I'm not supposed to tell anyone?”
“Uh, yeah. tu understand, right?”
“That the secrets of the almighty Marauders must be kept secret, lest their credibility goes? Yeah, I understand.”
“Awesome.”

–––––––

“All right, all right! Guys. Calm down, okay?” It was the third week of school, and James was trying to calm the Prefects down at their weekly meeting. “We – that is, your amazingly wonderful Head Girl and I –“ Lily smacked his arm for what had to have been the tenth time that week, and it was only Tuesday “– have some news for you.”
A chorus of 'Ooooh's rose up, and James kicked himself for not having worded that better. “Regrettably, not that.” He fully expected another smack, but even Lily seemed to have grown tired of the constant violence. “Yes, well, anyway, my point was this: seeing as tu all now that dark forces are at work, yadda yadda yadda, there's a war coming and so forth, we've decided that the students – especially the younger ones – need some entertainment in the dark winter months ahead. Which is why... we've decided to hold a Winter Ball – well, that's what it will officially be called. In actual fact, this is how it's going to be: around seven pm on a día that is yet to be decided, the entire school will meet in the Great Hall for a feast...” Lily tuned out James' speech – she had no need to listen to him explaining the event they'd planned just last week. She did, however, marvel at how eloquent James seemed to be while addressing the Prefects. They seemed to almost... respect him? No, that wasn't possible. This was James Potter, after all: he may have commanded many things, but respect – unless it was from a fellow prankster – was not often one of those things.
Huh. Maybe he really has changed.
posted by iluvtheshow
I remember the día I fell in love.
Not just simple love.
No, this was head over heels, I'd die for tu love.
I remember where I fell in love.
A small middle school in a small town.
A place tu could easily miss.
I remember the my matchmaker.
A short women, but with más fuego then tu could ever imagine.
más passion for what she does then I had ever seen.
I remember my girlfriends who were with me.
My athletic, sassy, fun-loving chicks.
My flirting consultants.
I remember him.
Good God, he was beautiful.
Yes, I remember the día I fell in love.
True Love.
Head over heels love.
With..................
Basketball.

--------------------------------
This is dedicated to my first real baloncesto coach. She taught me not just how to play basketball, but how to be part of a team. I have so much respect for her and I know I should thank her everyday for helping me fall in love. For Coach Joy.
posted by CullensFinest13
tu hurt me I hope tu die I cant belive I trusted tu I cant belive I loved tu I cant belive I stayed up and worried that tu wouldnt call. I cant belive that i loved tu i trusted tu and cared for you. im tired of tu its time i let tu go but your always there tu wont leave me alone...its time for tu to leave so never come back walk out of my life i am going to lock my door and never let tu back in stay out so i can be happy tu need tu need to die let me live my own life tu shouldnt be controlling me anymore im not property im a human and i dont belong to the likes of you, tu were...
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posted by vampiress015
I presuming we all joined this spot 'cos we amor to write, right? If so then tu all know what I'm talking about when I say that we all amor our main characters and sometimes want to make them the best people in the world.

B-O-R-I-N-G

Yes, we want to make our main character gets the best out of the story, since it's their story. But if they're the best people in the world it doesn't really make them believable and then the reader just doesn't care about them (which is hard to understand cos we as the writer amor em, but unfortunantley it's true)

So here is my step-by-step guide to make sure that...
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posted by Sweet_Pants
Just a poem. I hope it isn't much of a bother to rate.

I dream of all things

Uncertain of dark deeds and pasts

Within these thoughts as dark as sea

When once those wings of black

Hung over all

Shadowing but of the wretched white

That blinds me of all beauty.

I dream of all things

From happiness to highs

Let down these pills

o I’m gone, retreat inside my mind

Where none but the darkest thoughts

Swallowing twilight

I dream of all things

From the stories told por hidden scars

Unable to mostrar themselves

Under this intense scrutiny

That makes up this world’s attire

To the times that I could be happy

Without a drug to create

The much-needed illusion...


I dream of all things
No matter of their contents
Because, well,
Nightmares are still dreams.
posted by mrs-mindfreak
I decided to do a story where I put my iPod on shuffle and start writing. Lucky for me, all the songs were basically sad o angry music. So this is what I came up with :)

The rain pattered on the windows drowsily, drowning out Alana’s choking sobs. She sat in her favorito! wooden rocker, and buried her face in her hands miserably. Her black hair clung to her sweaty face. Her clammy palms were wet from tears. She never wanted to mover from that spot again. Although she was filled with irrevocable remorse, she felt comfortable there. No one in the house, rain falling softly outside, and just...
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‘You shouldn't have shot the dog.’ That single thought reverberated inside my head, knocking from side to side, smashing at the sides of my skull until I had to put my hands to my temples in a futile attempt to stop the pain. The man sitting siguiente to me took a swig of his whiskey, the glass bottle knocking against his yellowed and rotten teeth. His other hand held onto the steering wheel, maneuvering the car down the winding and deserted stretch of highway. I leaned my head against the cool glass of the passenger side window, willing my head to stop pounding. From the radio, the soft strains...
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 The Writer Behind the Words
The Writer Behind the Words
Luck has little to do with link. A long lasting escritura career doesn’t just happen. A writer can burst onto the scene and quickly disappear. Another can have a series of hits then write a bunch of flops and never be heard from again. The difference between a long lasting career and one that burns out is strategy. Here are seven rules to help tu find the right strategy for tu and get tu started on your journey to long lasting success.

Learn the power of focus. For most of us, we have más than enough to do on a daily basis. And when it comes to any escritura project the lista can grow exponentially-...
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The fragrance of scotch pine and blue picea, abeto de is pungent in the air, amplified por the heat of late June. o so tu think it is June. This place feels oddly void of time. tu open your eyes to see a sun hazed over por stratus clouds. From all angles tu spy familiar wooden structures.
You are back.

You sit up with your legs tucked under your bottom and bask in the estival air and all of the scents that waft within it. tu furrow your brows, thinking that it is not as clean as before. Even so, the place hums with earthy energy. A stronger gust of wind picks up the hem of your camisa, camiseta and flutters...
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posted by Epismatic
The Man With No Eyes Collection (3): Mask




When the curtain rises, all is forgiven.

I’ll brush it all off with a movie-star smile,

A genuine laugh, but my eyes must be hidden,

The truth they contain is considered too vile.

My voice is a song that will play through your ears,

And invite tu to dance to the sound of my tune,

I take a bow, deeply, and drink in your cheers,

I’ll always remain here,

You’ll come see me soon.

A new día is dawning,

“Quick, put on your mask!”

And hurry outside, meet the crowd.

“Where’ve tu been?”

With fanciful respuestas to all that tu ask,

I’ll always wait here for...
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posted by WritingBookWorm
So, one of my New’s Years Resolutions this año it to write more. So, I decided to make this:

The goal is to write something every day.

Starting on the 31st of January, every día there is a vague word, idea, object, question, statement o anything. tu can take it anyway tu want.

Then each día tu should write what it tells tu too o something inspired por it. Whether it be a poem, a small scene, a character description, journal entry, short story o even just one really well crafted sentence.

Even if the prompt confuses you, o tu have no ideas just write something! It’s a great exercise...
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This guide was inspired por a pregunta recently publicado por link on this spot. The user was looking for ways to put a twist on fairytales. I began to write an answer, but my answer soon developed into an article. So here it is.

Note that these aren't specifically for fairytales; they can be used on any old, well-known stories. After listing some ideas on how tu can put a twist on such stories, I'll give a few examples of cine that have done used one o más of these ideas.

1. Swap the genders of the traditional characters.
Do any of the characters behave especially "typical" for their gender?...
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posted by floraisbest1
Ms. Farogonda asked for the winx to come down to her office. when the winx reached ms. farogonda's office she told them that diana wants to speak wth one of you. she didnt tell me who but she told me to pick two extras. ms. farogonda can i go, bloom asked her. flora will be going along with musa and aisha ms farogonda told them. hmph bloom pouted, can we at least go with them bloom dicho quikly. fine all of tu girls can go and im bringing the specialist. ok stella dicho in a sing song voice. lets go dicho the winx. they met the RF boys outside and went in the owl. winx: WINX BELIEVIX
AT THE amazonas, amazon
flora: let's get going
aisha: see ya winx
bloom: meet back here in an hora k
ok bloom musa said
( diana appears in front of them)
GUARDS take them away
what??!
(to be continued)
posted by LunaNotLoony
Anna flicked the T.V from channel to channel, bored: there was nothing worth watching. Sighing, she left the news on and flopped back on the sofa, not really intending to listen.
'The war in Iraq-.'
'Oh no, tu don't,' Anna muttered, grabbing the remote. Her Dad had joined the army after her Mum had died of an overdose. Anna didn't really blame him, she'd have got out of the house as fast as possible too if she was an adult. The whole house was contaminated with the memories of Mum, of her laugh, of her accident... suicide... whatever it was. Even so, Anna missed Dad like it was painful. She'd...
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posted by Ichigo127
An Amuto one-shot
hope tu enjoy!

‘You know, Amu…,’ he was sitting there again, on the ledge of the window, staring wistfully outside. ‘All of them think you’re gone. But I know better. tu are alive, I know it. Somewhere out there, you’re thinking about me too, aren’t you?’
He was talking again, talking to the moon. ‘You’ll never admit it but tu have already fallen for me,’ he smirked at the moon. No, not the moon. It was Amu’s blushing face that he saw and it was her voice that he heard, ‘Shut up!’ he didn’t know it was the echo of his memories because he thought...
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A shadowy figure silently brushed the silken curtains aside as she slipped through the open window and stepped into the dark chamber. Passing a small mesa, tabla and a bed, the zorro, fox quickly headed towards a cabinet that stood against the far wall.
Beaded necklaces hung above a oval mirror that was set in the center. Her eyes rested on a miniature strongbox half hidden behind the mirror.
Paying no heed to the deafening clatter coming from the oblivious guest downstairs, she skillfully picked the tiny lock and raised the lid. It was hard to tell what was what in the darkness, so she emptied it into...
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posted by Ichigo127
Yo! this is the first poem i wrote with a sane mind xD do tell me if tu like it =)

Tears,
a combination of helplessness and anger,
a combination of joy and gratitude.
what different meanings it holds!
sometimes of love,
sometimes of hate.
with what different feelings we cry!
but those tears are the same.
they dwell inside the eye,
ready to attack,
the peace of our heart.
to flood the face,
with undoubted amor and care,
with undoubted anger and hate,
with undoubted pain and despair.
pain? yes, and despair too!
the breakdown of our heart,
the dawn of the truth,
leading to flood the face,
with our sentiments undoubted.
posted by australia-101
Act like you're not
okay when tu are and
that tu are when you're
not. Run barefoot in
the snow. Stand out
in the rain for an hour
and think about anything
and everything tu can.

Fall in amor with
riddles and things that
aren't real and the
way some stars
shine. Cry when
you realize that life is
just one big sham and write
one hundred cliché poems
about it, and then write one
that tu actually mean.

Use profanity. Be the
one fucking introvert
in a room full of
extroverts and scream
shit just for the fun of
it. golondrina every goddamn
metaphor tu ever dreamed
of and write them down
with your own blood.

Eulogize...
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Hi Everyone!
I've been working on a book for a while now. Im not gona post all of it at the same time, but I Will post the Prologue. Please tell me what tu think! I invite constructive criticism to make it better! THX!


Prologue
    “Tanya! I don’t understand what’s so different about this kid! He’s done nothing to make me see him as special!” Tanya glowered at her obnoxious boyfriend. “Don’t tu see?” She dicho icily, “He isn’t like us!” Virgil and Tanya looked at there new child. He wiggled around in his cuna and giggled happily. The child crabbed...
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What do tu want from me?
A tortured body?
A broken soul?

What do tu expect to happen?
As tu kick me down
As tu rip me apart

Tell Me!!!!!!!!!!

What do tu want to happen?
As I close my eyes
And take my last breath

I dicho I would stay
Till I took my last moment
But now I'm leaving
A victim no more

I lived with your love
The amor tu showed with your fist
I died because of that love
Your amor was only Hate

Now someone else will take my place
Will live with your kind of love
Now someone else will receive your lies
Will know your treachery

What did I expect?
That you'd change?
That you'd learn to love?

What did I ever...
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One afternoon, Sapphire sat in her room, on her bed, quietly soñar despierto with her headphones in. Her eyes were glazed over, and she was in her own magical world.
Sapphire entered the sparkling cave in the middle of the forest. Her blue dress was tattered, and her misty rosado, rosa fairy wings were damp from the moist, warm air. But she was feeling fine.
Sapphire took a few steps into the sparkling cave. It was made entirely of ice and crystal. Trickling water could be heard as miniature streams fell continuously from the ceiling. Icy stalagmites stood firmly in the cold crystal floor. Icicles hung from...
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