Katherine Frances's Blog, page 294
October 26, 2015
writingbox:
The function of the first draft is to help you...
The function of the first draft is to help you figure out your story. The function of every draft after that is to figure out the most dramatic way to tell that story.
Darcy Pattison
zheconceptart:
Art By:
Bri in the...
Art By:
Bri in the SkyPortfolio: https://www.artstation.com/artist/bri-in-the-sky
To see more concept art check the blog out at:
October 25, 2015
Kim Shimmers and the Diviner’s Curse
A Harry Potter Fanfic by me (and sequel to Kim Shimmers and the Screech Owl)
(Art not mine, couldn’t find credits. Let me know if you know them!)
This Harry Potter fanfic will be posted, if all goes well, every weekend.
Chapter 3
The Triwizard Tournament
Kim woke up one morning, a few days after arriving at Aunt Brits. She had only just begun to adjust to the time difference yet again. Though she hadn’t had to fly, jet lag still affected her after traveling across the world in an instant. She slouched into the wooden kitchen chair with a bowl of cereal, picking up the spoon and glancing at a pile of old magazines that sat across the table in Aunt Brit’s place. They hadn’t been there the day before, but they had coffee stains and dust on them, so Kim could tell they weren’t new. Probably pulled from the bathroom magazine rack.
With a frown and a sudden feeling of been-here-before, Kim shifted the top pile of magazines and revealed a newspaper from a week or so ago. On the front page was a picture of a dark tan young man in Quidditch gear. He had a bloodied and beaten looking face and was holding up a snitch in his hand. Beside where he hovered, looking sever, was the bold heading “Quidditch World Cup Takes Unexpected Turn; Ireland Wins by Krum Catching Snitch”.
Kim gave a knowing smile and went back to her cereal. So her dream had been a premonition after all. She wondered if the twins had read the back of her letter already, or if they had forgotten. It didn’t matter either way. She had sent the letter before the match, so no matter she would have proof that she’d seen the future, if they decided they didn’t want to believe her. She didn’t have any real reason to suspect they wouldn’t trust her claim, other than the fact that even the wizarding world tended to look at claims of future seeing as daft at best, insane at worst.
Aunt Brit walked into the kitchen, interrupting Kim’s thoughts. She opened the ice chest to pull out a sausage as she looked over her shoulder and peered at the moving picture on the newspaper.
“You heard what happened there, didn’t you?” she asked, moving to rummage through a cabinet for a frying pan.
“No. What happened?”
Brit shook her head lightly. “You’re mother really needs to get you wizard post.”
Kim shrugged. “It’s not like American wizard post would have reported on something that happened at the Quidditch match in England.”
Brit looked over her shoulder, seeming tired. “They would have reported this.”
Kim sat up in her seat, scooting forward slightly as Aunt Brit lit a fire in the fire place with her wand and hung the pan over it.
“What happened?” Kim pressed.
“There was an attack. Death Eaters. You know what those are?” Kim shook her head. “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named- you know who he is?” Kim nodded, though she had only just gotten used to calling him such. Aunt Brit must be more accustom since she lived in England part time. “Death Eaters are his followers, or they were. They’ve been quiet for a long time, biding their time I suppose… Everything’s going to be madness now.”
“What does it mean?” Kim asked, feeling her stomach squirm. Fred and George had been there at the attack. She’d looked for both of them in Diagon Ally for the past few days, strolling the streets to see if she spotted a flash of orange hair. She hadn’t been worried that she’d missed them though, figuring they’d probably gotten their books ahead of time because they were busy with the quidditch match and visiting family. But now a pit was sinking in her stomach. What if they’d been hurt?
“Well…” Brit said, not looking away from her cooking. “Just be careful this year. Like I’ve said in the past, you’re in the safest place there is, being in Hogwarts. But things might start changing soon.”
“Was the attack really that bad? Were any injured?”
Aunt Brit shrugged. “The Ministry is being tight lipped about it, damn them. Rita Skeeter, the famous journalist, she says there were several bodies, but nothing’s been confirmed.”
Kim swallowed, her hands gone cold and trembling. Several bodies. Several bodies with red hair and freckles and lanky builds. What if the Weasley family never made it back home? Kim hadn’t gotten an owl back from Fred or George either. Again, she’d thought that was pretty normal for them, what with the way they hardly ever wrote as it was and with them being preoccupied. But what if…
She didn’t have long to worry over it, though the next 24 hours felt like an eternity of her guts writhing with discomfort. The next day it was time for her to depart to platform 9 ¾. It was a fairly dreadful day, with the pouring chill of English rain. But Kim could hardly care about getting a little wet when she had no idea if her best friends were alive or dead.
Certainly it would be in the paper if a family that worked for the Ministry died, she reasoned as she pushed through the platform. But… bodies were found… But… there were probably thousands of wizards there, it could have been anyone… but…
And then her eyes landed on a cluster of orangey-red. Her heart lifted as she drew in a deep breath. Fred and George were standing down the platform beside the train, about a head taller than Harry, Ron, and Hermione who they stood beside. They were talking to their mother, who Kim had only really seen in passing last year when they’d left for the summer and not truly met. There were also two boys there, one who was bulky and muscled looking, with sun tanned skin, and the other who was stylishly dressed and calm looking, with long hair pulled back in a pony-tail at the nape of his neck.
Kim didn’t stop herself from flying down the platform, pushing past a family who scowled as they pulled their baggage out of the way of her’s that knocked past, dropping all her things once she was in arms reach, and launching herself into the midst of the twins while expelling the words, “You’re alive!” from her chest.
They both looked at her with surprise as she put her arms around either of their shoulders, and then, once they took in her face, they smiled with excitement.
“Yeah, of course we are,” George said, placing his hand on her shoulder comfortingly.
“And boy have we got loads to tell you. Later,” Fred said after bending to speak in her ear in a low tone.
putthepromptsonpaper:
“He used me, he ruined me. I know that I should want him dead. But all I want...
“He used me, he ruined me. I know that I should want him dead. But all I want to know is if he’s okay”
Kim Shimmers and the Diviner’s Curse
A Harry Potter Fanfic by me (and sequel to Kim Shimmers and the Screech Owl)
(Art not mine, couldn’t find credits. Let me know if you know them!)
This Harry Potter fanfic will be posted, if all goes well, every weekend.
Chapter 3
The Triwizard Tournament
Kim woke up one morning, a few days after arriving at Aunt Brits. She had only just begun to adjust to the time difference yet again. Though she hadn’t had to fly, jet lag still affected her after traveling across the world in an instant. She slouched into the wooden kitchen chair with a bowl of cereal, picking up the spoon and glancing at a pile of old magazines that sat across the table in Aunt Brit’s place. They hadn’t been there the day before, but they had coffee stains and dust on them, so Kim could tell they weren’t new. Probably pulled from the bathroom magazine rack.
With a frown and a sudden feeling of been-here-before, Kim shifted the top pile of magazines and revealed a newspaper from a week or so ago. On the front page was a picture of a dark tan young man in Quidditch gear. He had a bloodied and beaten looking face and was holding up a snitch in his hand. Beside where he hovered, looking sever, was the bold heading “Quidditch World Cup Takes Unexpected Turn; Ireland Wins by Krum Catching Snitch”.
Kim gave a knowing smile and went back to her cereal. So her dream had been a premonition after all. She wondered if the twins had read the back of her letter already, or if they had forgotten. It didn’t matter either way. She had sent the letter before the match, so no matter she would have proof that she’d seen the future, if they decided they didn’t want to believe her. She didn’t have any real reason to suspect they wouldn’t trust her claim, other than the fact that even the wizarding world tended to look at claims of future seeing as daft at best, insane at worst.
Aunt Brit walked into the kitchen, interrupting Kim’s thoughts. She opened the ice chest to pull out a sausage as she looked over her shoulder and peered at the moving picture on the newspaper.
“You heard what happened there, didn’t you?” she asked, moving to rummage through a cabinet for a frying pan.
“No. What happened?”
Brit shook her head lightly. “You’re mother really needs to get you wizard post.”
Kim shrugged. “It’s not like American wizard post would have reported on something that happened at the Quidditch match in England.”
Brit looked over her shoulder, seeming tired. “They would have reported this.”
Kim sat up in her seat, scooting forward slightly as Aunt Brit lit a fire in the fire place with her wand and hung the pan over it.
“What happened?” Kim pressed.
“There was an attack. Death Eaters. You know what those are?” Kim shook her head. “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named- you know who he is?” Kim nodded, though she had only just gotten used to calling him such. Aunt Brit must be more accustom since she lived in England part time. “Death Eaters are his followers, or they were. They’ve been quiet for a long time, biding their time I suppose… Everything’s going to be madness now.”
“What does it mean?” Kim asked, feeling her stomach squirm. Fred and George had been there at the attack. She’d looked for both of them in Diagon Ally for the past few days, strolling the streets to see if she spotted a flash of orange hair. She hadn’t been worried that she’d missed them though, figuring they’d probably gotten their books ahead of time because they were busy with the quidditch match and visiting family. But now a pit was sinking in her stomach. What if they’d been hurt?
“Well…” Brit said, not looking away from her cooking. “Just be careful this year. Like I’ve said in the past, you’re in the safest place there is, being in Hogwarts. But things might start changing soon.”
“Was the attack really that bad? Were any injured?”
Aunt Brit shrugged. “The Ministry is being tight lipped about it, damn them. Rita Skeeter, the famous journalist, she says there were several bodies, but nothing’s been confirmed.”
Kim swallowed, her hands gone cold and trembling. Several bodies. Several bodies with red hair and freckles and lanky builds. What if the Weasley family never made it back home? Kim hadn’t gotten an owl back from Fred or George either. Again, she’d thought that was pretty normal for them, what with the way they hardly ever wrote as it was and with them being preoccupied. But what if…
She didn’t have long to worry over it, though the next 24 hours felt like an eternity of her guts writhing with discomfort. The next day it was time for her to depart to platform 9 ¾. It was a fairly dreadful day, with the pouring chill of English rain. But Kim could hardly care about getting a little wet when she had no idea if her best friends were alive or dead.
Certainly it would be in the paper if a family that worked for the Ministry died, she reasoned as she pushed through the platform. But… bodies were found… But… there were probably thousands of wizards there, it could have been anyone… but…
And then her eyes landed on a cluster of orangey-red. Her heart lifted as she drew in a deep breath. Fred and George were standing down the platform beside the train, about a head taller than Harry, Ron, and Hermione who they stood beside. They were talking to their mother, who Kim had only really seen in passing last year when they’d left for the summer and not truly met. There were also two boys there, one who was bulky and muscled looking, with sun tanned skin, and the other who was stylishly dressed and calm looking, with long hair pulled back in a pony-tail at the nape of his neck.
Kim didn’t stop herself from flying down the platform, pushing past a family who scowled as they pulled their baggage out of the way of her’s that knocked past, dropping all her things once she was in arms reach, and launching herself into the midst of the twins while expelling the words, “You’re alive!” from her chest.
They both looked at her with surprise as she put her arms around either of their shoulders, and then, once they took in her face, they smiled with excitement.
“Yeah, of course we are,” George said, placing his hand on her shoulder comfortingly.
“And boy have we got loads to tell you. Later,” Fred said after bending to speak in her ear in a low tone.
