Hérna er ég kominn með aðra one-shot sögu, þessi er töluvert lengri en síðasta saga sem ég benti á en þessi er ekkert síðri. Stick with it, hún er góð.

Winter's Debt

Smá brot úr sögunni:

As abruptly as they had begun, my sister´s sobs ceased. Slowly, jerkily, like a badly made marionette, she turned her head to look at the faces of her enemies. I stifled a scream. My father was staring out from behind her eyes. The same fury was in them, the same defiance, the same cold-bloodedness. Then I blinked and the illusion was gone, but her face was still terrible to behold. The hatred had not lessened; indeed, it had grown, twisting her features into a living Death Eater´s mask. In a moment of total recall, I saw her at four years old, sitting on the floor with my blood on her hands and staring at me with mad dybbuk eyes.
Admin@hp since 26. june 2003 - 10:25