Завтра (ЕСЛИ МНЕ НАКОНЕЦ ПЕРЕЗВОНЯТ ) должна забрать по дороге в кино (или обратно...да, лучше обратно, а то до дома они не доживут)
Посмотрим, какой у них сервис и товар...надеюсь, что не буду разочарована
Ну, а пока
До жути хочу прочитать фанфик по Гарри Поттеру с похожей идеей.
Взято у Araceil с её страницы в фэйсбуке (последняя запись за 15 марта 2013)
Plot bunny
Harry cussed, cursed, swore, and cussed some more for good measure. This was just flippin' TYPICAL.
Help Hermione with her new experimental thesis into the effects of Time Paradoxes and several other things that made Harry's head spin just thinking about, get blown up, and land in 1971. What's more, he landed smack dab in the middle of Malfoy Manor, IN THE MIDDLE OF A BLOODY DEATH EATER MEETING!!
"Fuck my life," the Gryffindor muttered softly.
Thankfully, he had managed to avoid the Death Eaters themselves - he had landed within the Malfoy family's secret artefact stash under the drawing room floor. He remembered several of the artefacts from when he watched Arthur Weasleys raid of Lucius Malfoy via penseive. Getting out of THERE had been easy. Hard part now was that he was confined to the second floor with no way of getting out aside from the front door. Fucking wards. He could rip them down, easily, but that would bring every wizard and witch within the building down upon his head. Not something he relished the idea of. PARADOXES, DAMNIT!!
He had to find someway of not only getting out but also going to ground in such a way that he wouldn't effect A.N.Y.T.H.I.N.G. of the future.
Easier said than do- was that Narcissa's bedroom?
An idea took root in Harry's mind as he recalled some of the tall tales he heard from the Order of the Phoenix. In particular.... how Mundungus Fletcher pulled one over on Aberforth Dumbledore in his own pub. Sneaking in, dressed as a witch. In this day and age, most women were still considered somewhat invisible unless they made a spectacle of themselves. Problem was, no one in their right mind would take Harry for a Pureblood while he wore his mother's facial structure. She didn't have the haughty high cheekbones that could cut glass, or the scary plucked eyebrows and pointy noses. Heck, even his lips were too big to pull off the Pureblood look.
Masculine pride be damned, survival came first.
Harry snuck in to the Lady's bedroom and closed the door, silently casting several charms to warn him of anyone approaching as he flung himself into the lady's closet and began to rummage. And as uncomfortable as it was to admit, Draco's mother was smokin' hot and the dresses she possessed were all designed to show that off in the most elegant of ways. Harry was /screwed/.
He picked out the most modest of what he could find, it looked asian and a little complicated but fuck it, he was desperate. On went the first layer which was a simple long sleeved white dress, the sleeves themselves were frickin' huge, the cuffs dropping down to his ankles with his arm down, trimmed in a pleasant sapphire blue. Next came the weird... jacket thing. Same shade of Sapphire blue, trimmed in silver with blue embroidery on the collar depicting peacocks, it also had two weird tails that didn't quite go around to his back and bunched up something awful when tied like apron strings. They were silver with embroidery of blue peacocks on the silk and trimmed in sapphire blue. He left them as is and then moved onto the waist belt, silver with more blue peacock embroidery. He tied this on OVER the tails of the jacket to hide the unsightly wrinkling of the fabric he'd made when he attempted to tie them like an apron.
He eyed the look in the mirror. Good enough. It certainly hid the fact that he had no tits or ass to speak of and nicely explained away the lack of curves. He quickly put Narcissa's clothes back to rights - but not before stealing a particularly handsome blue crushed velvet cloak that matched the dress. A quick visit to the make-up table crushed what little male pride he had when after ten minutes he came to the conclusion that he was just a little too good at this whole crossdressing thing.
He quite honestly did not recognise the face with it's petite but thick dusky rose-pink lips, pale flawless skin, long black eyelashes and smoky blue eyeshadow. He resolved immediately to /never/ let Ron find out about this. That would mean George or Charlie, or even worse, BILL finding out about it. And that... did not bode well for his sanity.
Again, Harry quickly put everything to rights, donned the cloak - keeping his dragonhide boots on and abducted one of Narcissa's purses at the same time to stuff his Auror robes and other bits inside. That done, he pulled the hood of the cloak firmly over his head to obscure his face and swept out of the Pureblood's bedchambers, cancelling the charms on the room as he went.
Naturally he was silent as he crept down the stairs, listening to the sound of Voldemort waxing poetic about death, disease, torture, maiming, blah blah blah - heard it once, heard it a hundred times. Just with different pauses for Crucio curses.
He'd literally just reached the door when Voldemort faltered for a moment, mid-sentence, and Harry looked over. Interally bugging out.
The fucking door was open and he was looking RIGHT. AT. HIM.
Harry's eyes widened and he yanked the door open, vanishing out into the night of the Mafloy family estate. He didn't pause as he heard chaos erupt from the house as he sprinted for the gates, sending the albino peacocks into a shrilling panic. Several of them scattered in an explosion of discarded silver-white feathers, and others took flight alongside him only to peel away as he vauled over the mansion gates and Apparated out of there before his feet even touched the ground.
Leaving a speechless gaggle of Purebloods in his wake.
"What just happened?" Evan Rosier questioned faintly.
"Crucio," Voldemort intoned almost absently, not even looking as the man collapsed to the ground and began to writhe. Too busy staring at the absentee figure of the woman who literally fled the Malfoy mansion in a fluffy of white feathers without a single one of them being able to fire off a Curse before she was gone.
Не знаю, куда бы это всё пошло, но идея мне нравится
Ну, а пока
До жути хочу прочитать фанфик по Гарри Поттеру с похожей идеей.
Взято у Araceil с её страницы в фэйсбуке (последняя запись за 15 марта 2013)
Plot bunny
Harry cussed, cursed, swore, and cussed some more for good measure. This was just flippin' TYPICAL.
Help Hermione with her new experimental thesis into the effects of Time Paradoxes and several other things that made Harry's head spin just thinking about, get blown up, and land in 1971. What's more, he landed smack dab in the middle of Malfoy Manor, IN THE MIDDLE OF A BLOODY DEATH EATER MEETING!!
"Fuck my life," the Gryffindor muttered softly.
Thankfully, he had managed to avoid the Death Eaters themselves - he had landed within the Malfoy family's secret artefact stash under the drawing room floor. He remembered several of the artefacts from when he watched Arthur Weasleys raid of Lucius Malfoy via penseive. Getting out of THERE had been easy. Hard part now was that he was confined to the second floor with no way of getting out aside from the front door. Fucking wards. He could rip them down, easily, but that would bring every wizard and witch within the building down upon his head. Not something he relished the idea of. PARADOXES, DAMNIT!!
He had to find someway of not only getting out but also going to ground in such a way that he wouldn't effect A.N.Y.T.H.I.N.G. of the future.
Easier said than do- was that Narcissa's bedroom?
An idea took root in Harry's mind as he recalled some of the tall tales he heard from the Order of the Phoenix. In particular.... how Mundungus Fletcher pulled one over on Aberforth Dumbledore in his own pub. Sneaking in, dressed as a witch. In this day and age, most women were still considered somewhat invisible unless they made a spectacle of themselves. Problem was, no one in their right mind would take Harry for a Pureblood while he wore his mother's facial structure. She didn't have the haughty high cheekbones that could cut glass, or the scary plucked eyebrows and pointy noses. Heck, even his lips were too big to pull off the Pureblood look.
Masculine pride be damned, survival came first.
Harry snuck in to the Lady's bedroom and closed the door, silently casting several charms to warn him of anyone approaching as he flung himself into the lady's closet and began to rummage. And as uncomfortable as it was to admit, Draco's mother was smokin' hot and the dresses she possessed were all designed to show that off in the most elegant of ways. Harry was /screwed/.
He picked out the most modest of what he could find, it looked asian and a little complicated but fuck it, he was desperate. On went the first layer which was a simple long sleeved white dress, the sleeves themselves were frickin' huge, the cuffs dropping down to his ankles with his arm down, trimmed in a pleasant sapphire blue. Next came the weird... jacket thing. Same shade of Sapphire blue, trimmed in silver with blue embroidery on the collar depicting peacocks, it also had two weird tails that didn't quite go around to his back and bunched up something awful when tied like apron strings. They were silver with embroidery of blue peacocks on the silk and trimmed in sapphire blue. He left them as is and then moved onto the waist belt, silver with more blue peacock embroidery. He tied this on OVER the tails of the jacket to hide the unsightly wrinkling of the fabric he'd made when he attempted to tie them like an apron.
He eyed the look in the mirror. Good enough. It certainly hid the fact that he had no tits or ass to speak of and nicely explained away the lack of curves. He quickly put Narcissa's clothes back to rights - but not before stealing a particularly handsome blue crushed velvet cloak that matched the dress. A quick visit to the make-up table crushed what little male pride he had when after ten minutes he came to the conclusion that he was just a little too good at this whole crossdressing thing.
He quite honestly did not recognise the face with it's petite but thick dusky rose-pink lips, pale flawless skin, long black eyelashes and smoky blue eyeshadow. He resolved immediately to /never/ let Ron find out about this. That would mean George or Charlie, or even worse, BILL finding out about it. And that... did not bode well for his sanity.
Again, Harry quickly put everything to rights, donned the cloak - keeping his dragonhide boots on and abducted one of Narcissa's purses at the same time to stuff his Auror robes and other bits inside. That done, he pulled the hood of the cloak firmly over his head to obscure his face and swept out of the Pureblood's bedchambers, cancelling the charms on the room as he went.
Naturally he was silent as he crept down the stairs, listening to the sound of Voldemort waxing poetic about death, disease, torture, maiming, blah blah blah - heard it once, heard it a hundred times. Just with different pauses for Crucio curses.
He'd literally just reached the door when Voldemort faltered for a moment, mid-sentence, and Harry looked over. Interally bugging out.
The fucking door was open and he was looking RIGHT. AT. HIM.
Harry's eyes widened and he yanked the door open, vanishing out into the night of the Mafloy family estate. He didn't pause as he heard chaos erupt from the house as he sprinted for the gates, sending the albino peacocks into a shrilling panic. Several of them scattered in an explosion of discarded silver-white feathers, and others took flight alongside him only to peel away as he vauled over the mansion gates and Apparated out of there before his feet even touched the ground.
Leaving a speechless gaggle of Purebloods in his wake.
"What just happened?" Evan Rosier questioned faintly.
"Crucio," Voldemort intoned almost absently, not even looking as the man collapsed to the ground and began to writhe. Too busy staring at the absentee figure of the woman who literally fled the Malfoy mansion in a fluffy of white feathers without a single one of them being able to fire off a Curse before she was gone.
Не знаю, куда бы это всё пошло, но идея мне нравится
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Обновление за 03.04.2013
Никто мне так и не перезвонил. До них дозвониться я тоже не смогла, так что плюнула на всё и на сайте отказалась от заказа. Если уж очень прям захочется, закажу ингредиенты и сама приготовлю *надулась*