Wednesday, May 26, 2004

Pisco Rose, Part 1B

"There's something not right about that kid," the Ravenclaw seeker whispers to his teammates, "he caught the Snitch with barely a thought! And it came right to him too. ... I wish I had those reflexes."

"Who is he anyways? He looks familiar,..."

"He's that kid that acts so strange. Rose, I think his name was. I haven't heard him say a word yet; but the teachers, they don't seem to mind. He gets top grades, so they leave him alone."

The team captain, [female name], looks surprised. "Rose, you say? Would that be Pisco?"

"That would be him."

"A strange character he is. Nobody seems to know much about him, and there aren't any rumors going around either, which is very unusual. I do know a few things about him though."

"Like what? And how do you know these things?"

"As Captain and prefect, it's my job to know these things," she replies matter-of-factly. "He seems to have strong magical instincts in his blood, but claims to be a first-gen--"

"First-gen?" interrupts one of the Beaters, "I haven't heard that term before."

"First-generation: Muggle born--But his abilities are off the charts; knowledge retention, reflexes, intuitive logic and reasoning. The professors don't exactly like him, but they respect his silence and leave him alone. One thing he does seem to be lacking in, however, are social skills. The only student who seems to have conversed with was Longbottom from Gryffindor, on the train. The two shared a compartment and exchanged a few sentences.--That's were I picked up some of this information. What puzzles me most is that hair, and Longbottom agreed: that hair is characteristic of Harry Potter. I wonder exactly where his genes are really from."

Tuesday, May 25, 2004

The Fiercesome Stair

with the house
a queer house there.
within the house
upon a stair,
a mouse there sits
upon a stair
a mouse with wits
a fiercesome stare.
a mouse to wit
lives still there.

there,
upon that stair,
that queer house there,
the most fiercesome stare.

a gaze to fix
upon your wits
a stare aware
to leave from there.

a glare:
from where
to where?
nobody ever
visits there.

the stair is bare,
the gaze is bare.
but does nobody
to visit dare?