HoR_Emperor

Okay, here's my contribution. Children's fantasy is completely outside my wheelhouse, and teen romantic angst isn't much better. But a final dramatic clash? That I can do. #malfoid *************************************************************** He’s alive. Harry Potter’s alive. The knowledge rings through Dracaena like a bell. He died in the Forbidden Forest, she’d heard them all say it, seen the body displayed at the gate of Hogwarts. But now somehow… He’s alive. He’s alive! She can barely see him, all the way at the far end of the Great Hall, shouting back and forth at the Dark Lord. But she knows him, has known him for seven years: His form, his voice, his tangled hair. He’s alive. Her father is holding her by her wrist, his grip vise-like, dragging her back as she writhes and strains against him. “Let go,” she cries brokenly, “Let me go, father, I have to—" “Stop it, Dracaena,” he hisses, his face contorted with fear. “Be silent! If the Dark Lord hears—" “Lucius,” Narcissa says, soft but clear. She puts her hand over his. “Let her go.” She meets Dracaena’s eyes, and her own glisten with unshed tears. Lucius stares at his wife bewildered. For the first time in her life, Dracaena sees her father entirely at a loss. He lets her go. Dracaena turns and runs, a blur of faces staring at her, Hogwarts students and teachers, a brief glimpse of Hermione and Ron wide-eyed, and ahead of her she sees them: Harry grim-faced and desperate, the Dark Lord brandishing the Elder Wand as his red eyes glitter. Two voices ring through the hall: “Avada Kedavra! “Expelliarmus!” Green light collides with red in a blazing flare, and the meeting point moves toward Harry, the power of Voldemort’s curse overwhelming… Dracaena screams aloud, somehow moving even faster; her feet do not even feel the floorboards of the Great Hall. She hurls herself forward, reaching out desperately… and her wand intercepts the clashing spells. The wand snaps, unicorn hair burned away in an instant. The disrupted spells erupt in a shockwave, knocking Harry and Voldemort to the ground. The floor slams into Dracaena like a hammer and she writhes half-stunned, the fingers of her wand-hand aching bone-deep. Voldemort struggles to rise, Death Eaters crowding forward to try to help him. Harry scrambles to Dracaena’s side, putting one arm around her waist and pulling her to her feet. His face is frantic, streaked with soot and tears. “Dracaena… What… What are you doing... Why are you here?" She meets his gaze and all her fears rise up, all the misery and despair of the last two years choking her, the scar on her neck burning with remembered pain. Voldemort is on his feet, waving back his followers with furious dismissal. Dracaena shuts her eyes and forces the words out, barely a whisper. “I love you, Harry Potter. You’re… you’re my life.” When she dares look at him again, his face is a sunrise. She feels a pulse of joy so intense it is like pain. “Traitor,” Voldemort hisses. “I knew the Malfoys could not be trusted.” He raises the Elder Wand overhead. “You choose Potter, here at the end? You can die with him.” Harry turns to face the Dark Lord, still clutching Dracaena to him, and she wraps her own arm around his waist and sets her wand-hand over his. They share a last look. “Together,” Harry says, and she nods. Voldemort’s wand snaps forward once more. “Avada Kedavra!” Harry and Dracaena answer in two voices made one: “Expelliarmus!” The magic collides again, flaring white light. Veldomort grins as the meeting-point edges toward them… The color of their shared spell changes, becoming a twining spiral of emerald green and sunlit gold. The flare of the clashing magics stops in place… and then begins moving toward the Dark Lord. Voldemort’s gloating triumph gives way to confusion, then to fear. His voice rises in a shriek. “What is this magic?” Love, Harry. Love is the most powerful magic of all. Voldemort never heard Dumbledore’s words. But if he ever had, he would not have understood them. The clashing spells reach the Elder Wand, and it shatters. Voldemort lets out a single scream, a cry of negation and despair, before his own killing curse washes over him. Harry and Dracaena drops to their knees, gasping for breath, slumping against each other. There is a long silence in the Great Hall, and then a rising tumult: Cheering, sobbing, babbling cries. Dracaena glimpses teachers and students rushing forward, the Death Eaters cowering in surrender, Ron and Hermoine running toward their friend. Harry sees none of it; he is looking only at her. He drops his wand and his hands come up, cradling her face gently, as though it might break. “Dracaena, I…” He coughs and swallows, blinks his eyes clear. “I love you, Dracaena. I… I always have.” She catches his head and pulls him to her, and he kisses her like a drowning man seeking air.

Most excellent. Massie-the-fake leaves office with a final public humiliation. Good riddance to bad rubbish.

The schadenfreude is intense, LOL.

Given that Pushaw -- who still reXeets the very worst Gator Tots like Chris Nelson -- has been working for Massie since last winter, this is utterly unsurprising.

Oh GODDAM. He's made the second half of the story EVEN BETTER.

Very awkward for @CynicalPublius, who should stop listening to James Lindsey's paranoid fantasies.

Malfoid can even work as a screwball romantic comedy. Is there anything it can’t do?

Goddam. Incredible to realize this is AI and not real actors/sets/effects. Hollywood is so, so screwed. Build ALL the data centers!

Damn, this one is REALLY impressive. youtube.com/watch?v=ped0_6je…

Yep. Iran wasn't the only thing (Senate refusal to pass anything was a factor for sure, the warning signs were there last winter) but Iran and the accompanying gas/diesel price impact was definitely the biggest thing, the final blow that made a bad election into a catastrophe.

These retarded dishonest clowns really, really need to get Reagan's name out of their whore mouths.

Good point. "Just move to a red state" has been a way to dodge the fight for much too long.