Okay. What freaked me out with the first page was the gunware. OMG! I must remember to contact you if I ever need gun info.
(I wanted to get back to you last night, but, unfortunately Real Life stuck its head into that plan.)
Lines that I loved from the story:
That was a complete lie. He didn't trust Ron, but that was because he knew Ron knew what he did for a living, and he knew that Ron knew that he knew, and then, well all those knews became knotted and suddenly his life was a deliberately intricate Monty Python sketch. And it probably ended with bloody stumps. All the best Monty Python sketches involved something dying or already dead.
Ah, shades of The Holy Grail!
Ollivander sighed. "Black market wands are as unreliable in their construction as they are in their origins. Most black market wands are shoddily constructed with substandard materials in factories in Taiwan.
Poor Ollivander! Competition from Asia! LOL!
And the headset made him feel like a super spy.
LOL! Yeah, it would. Harry, assassin and still partly a child.
The howler shorted the wiring to the CPU," she said curtly, probably because she thought he had just told her to shut up. "I had to replace the keyboard and the power cables. And I lost three levels in Diablo II."
Ah, Dresden has that kind of trouble as well. But the Diablo loss is far more important, eh!
"I'M NOT YOUR ALIENIST!" Phineas shouted.
OMG! Am passing this on to my sister the shrink! (But you have to feel for poor Phineas. Locked into his portrait so that Harry can force him to listen to his dreams...even if...In fact, his weekly 'sessions' with Potter were possibly some of the most entertaining sources of schadenfreude he'd experienced since the night Dumbledore had got drunk in his office and fallen face-first into a bowl full of Licorice Snaps.)
Now that is a story I'd really like to read!
Neville saw him first, and through the barrage of manly handshakes and hugs, Harry tried to remind himself repeatedly that he wasn't being embraced for a knifing or grabbed for a deadly Mongolian wrestling match. The former was an old trick, and the latter a remnant of a horrifying experience involving a sumo wrestler named Okura.
You know, you are really very mean. You drop these hints of previous hits and leave us wonder what the hell was going on.
"And then imagine that same older man coming home from his extremely stressful and unfulfilling job to find that his lover of over a year has decided to leave without taking anything."
From the get-go, you had me in Snape's pocket. But when I read this, I found myself hoping that the as-yet-unknown hit was to be on Harry himself.
Hermione opened one eye and turned her head minutely to look at Ron, before closing her eye again and half smiling. "Curses. Foiled again."
OMG! I snickered when I read Hermione's response. But it's been driving me crazy all evening. Where the hell does that come from?
Snape replaced the stopper in the decanter and picked it up, along with his glass. Harry noted that he had never even retrieved a second glass for Harry. "How very monastic of you." Snape motioned to a chair on the opposite side of the sitting room. "Have a seat. I think they were your chairs anyway."
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! Bitter or what! That crack about "your chairs"...OUCH!
"Why don't Dark wizards ever stay dead?" "I think they're in a union," she said breezily. Sometimes Harry was too easy.
Well, it is obvious that the brains of this organisation is not Harry!
Harry stared at him dully. "You did not just quote Lavender Brown at me."
Dumbledore's face reddened slightly. "Quite without thinking about it. Thank goodness Phineas isn't here; I would never hear the end of it."