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wanted to do something sad, and this was what came out =)


Walk the streets with the cold calandole bones. Should be at the Burrow, celebrating Christmas with all. But it does not. He has no reason to celebrate.

Snow falls on the shoulders, slowing his pace. His boots sink into the ground and adjusts the scarf while it reaches its destination.

Cemetery stands in front of him, and the moon makes fun of his suffering, round and full of light, even though he feels he is plunged into darkness.

has seventeen years and is an orphan. His grandmother just died, and everyone in town celebrating Christmas, oblivious to their suffering. All raised their glasses and shouting, while embracing each other.

No matter what he feels at this time. Sign

slowly almost in fear and runs along the row of graves that fill that cemetery. No stops nowhere, no time. Finally comes to those that interest you and the air stops cirucular. Since becoming a child has had that feeling. As if choking. As if the world stop spinning. Remus

Jonh Lupin
March 10, 1960 - May 3, 1998

Nymphadora Tonks
May 13, 1973 - May 3

1999,8 often holds the tomb, unwittingly, two hearts in the same coffin .

is dropped in the snow and feel like the world is coming. Like when I was five. Like when I was eleven . As always.

Why celebrate that they are not there? What never will be? What all celebrate as a family, when he has never had any? Pra no reason to celebrate, never will be. Tears run down his face, but no sound comes out of his mouth.

finally lifts his head. and watches.

Snow tangled in her hair red, and warm embraces, while the scarf flying in the air, and she fights against the current of air, trying to keep it from getting to him. When he finally does, he looks with those blue eyes that still do blush.

not say anything, does not accuse, nor will loose things like "What the hell are you doing here?" Teddy just hugs him and clings to it, like all that exists.

"I love Teddy - he says, and Ted kisses, needing to know there is someone there who will not go, that nothing is an illusion. Why Victoria has always been there since he can remember. And always expected to be

"Now, it's time to go home, he takes her hand, like someone waiting to guide a young child, and he takes, with lá ; tears dried on her cheeks. Le

hand pressed hard and turning on themselves and go, leaving a small swirl of snow where they had been.

Perhaps if there is someone who cares about what he feels.



Merry Christmas to all: 3

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Redheads.

Disclaimer: Everything is Jotaká

In his defense
, nothing was his fault. She was just a poor victim of exactly the gene circunstancias.Más Potter.

Potter "All we fall for the redheads," said Harry to his two sons, James and Albus, with a smile on his face as if to take him in the blood. My mother was a redhead, and her mother is pelirroja.-watched his wife with rapt expression, while combing to Lily, who had stopped paying attention to the conversation at any time.

James smiled and said:

- Then the mother of my children will be redhead!
Albus
just said nothing.

His father had said, and she just ignored him. So it was not his fault that every time she saw her cousin (with that red hair untamed) wanted to give him his fingers tangled in it and pet it. Nor that every time you speak, could not help seeing as her lips moved and want to silence gave him a kiss.
Much less, it was his fault that every time Rose saw the blond friend of Albus, whether they like shouting that he would do if ever, and better look to it, always had been at his side.

Of course not. Potter was the fault of the gene.
Potter
No one could resist.

James quickly had shown interest in the strong-willed redhead (like your grandmother, like her mother, as she ) and did not appear to change their tastes.

They all liked redheads.

Grandfather James, his father, Harry, his brother James, and she, Lily Potter. All

.

Well, except Albus, but is that Albus was rare.

He preferíaa blondes.