A/N: Heh heh.I've been reading mangas (Japanese comic books), and they have
these side stories that usually have nothing to do with the main plot, and
coincidentally, I've also been studying Regency England (Some jerk said I
didn't use the correct terms...hehehe...I don't...does anyone here mind? I
might go back to edit former chapters if anyone does, but seriously, if you
know the correct terms, what's the point? You know them, I don't, it
doesn't hurt you. Oh, but it'll probably help those who, like me, do not
know the correct terms to please not use this story as reference. Might not
do too well on a English paper ^-^!) Oh, so getting back to my point, I've
decided to write my own side story! (I know you're glaring at me for not
updating the main plot...but...but I have um...writer's block? *audience
glares* Okay, okay, a three month writer's block is not plausible...oh
well, I'll update this weekend or something. This is just to let you know
I'm not dead yet. ^_^) (Actually, I've written three chapters to another HP
story, if anyone of you want to go check it out. It's called Arithmetic
Love. Guess who it features? No really, guess! Heh.*cough* D *cough* H
*cough*) Coming out of parenthesis, let me just say this once:
THIS CHAPTER HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE MAIN STORY PLOT! IT'S SOMETHING THAT HAS TO DO WITH MY ERR...WEIRD SENSE OF HUMOR.
I better not see any complaints in reviews about how I don't update, or you won't get an update at all! *evil laughter*
P.S. You all know what a dandy is.right? Okay, let's clear this up:
A dandy is like a guy model who walks around parks in London and they're referred to as the 'pink of the ton' (so I read somewhere), and they're arrogant idiots. Heh...I'm so mean...I actually love them.
Disclaimers: Hum...Hum...*hum some more and more and more* *handcuffed* *mumbles* Rouhgajdf lkjfds. *Dragged to prison* Don't own characters! Wah!
***
Hated Rainy Days
***
Harry Potter is what we can name as a poseur of a dandy, for you see, he -tries- to do everything just as a dandy ought, and by doing that, he has made himself a dandy wanna-be, so to speak. Although of a kind and sweet disposition when unveiled, Harry tends to act with like a narcissist, seems extremely arrogant, and shows not the least respect for anyone. He tries hard to make clever and rude comments at the right moment, he tries hard to tie his cravat in just the right way, and he tries hard to copy Brummell's (the king of all dandies) way of doing things snappily. However, all attempt at being an outstanding dandy is, unfortunately, quite overshadowed by his magnificent cousin, Draco Malfoy.
Whatever it is that Harry tries to do, it can never beat Draco. For example, this young man wakes up at a reasonably late hour (one in the afternoon), and would spend the next three trying to tie his cravat. It is not uncommon that he should spend the first hour contemplating just what style he wishes to tie it in.
"Would it be the Oriental tie?" he wonders to himself. "No, it doesn't match my coat. The Mathematical tie? I've never been much of a mathematician. The American tie? Oh dear, I'll die before doing anything American. They need to get rid of the horrid accent. The Napoleon tie? No, no, no, people will hate me for it. The mail coach tie? I haven't a mail coach. No point. The Ballroom tie? I shan't be entering a ballroom today. No point. The Horse Collar tie? Hmm...worth considering...no, too complicated. The Couleur Peau d'Ispahan? It is nice, but I don't think I shall be able to breathe at all in it. Aha! The Trone d'Amour. Yes, I shall find myself a perfect Amour today! I think I shall go with this one."
And so, when he finally finds a style he wishes to use, he and his varlet spend the next two hours trying to tie it in precisely the way asked. Of course, it is inevitable that there should be some failures...but Harry is a dandy, and dandies must sacrifice.
Then, when finally the stiff neck-cloth is securely and beautifully tied, we move to the next area of struggle; the coat. Yes, yes, you find it unreasonable that a man should spend a whole hour putting on a coat, but might I remind you again that Harry is a dandy. It is the fashion of dandies to wear a most fitting coat with a most fitting cut to show off a most fitting body (if one possesses such a thing). Luckily, Harry did have the third item on the list, but the first two are a bit iffy.
Looking through his closet, he would spend the first half hour contemplating just what coat he wishes to wear. No, you shan't find yourself going through all the coats he has. (Blue? Or is it red? Or perhaps dark is the fashion? How about green? White? No, it'll get stained. Red then? But I don't red! Or perhaps dark? But it is not too well fitting. Blue again? No, no, no.)
When finally he selects a coat he wishes to wear, he and his valet spend the next half hour trying to put it on. Considering you live in the twenty first century right now, and are up to date with twenty first century fashions, it is, perhaps, unfathomable for you to imagine a man spending half an hour struggling with his coat, but right now, we are in eighteenth century England, and keeping up to date with their fashions, it's not at all odd, for the coats were cut to fit a body so closely, it's a wrestle to try to wear it. However, this (long) part of the process of dressing is usually passed without trouble.
Next, the boy puts on his pantaloons (which you might imagine to be trousers, for they looks alike). This doesn't take quite so long, but you see, Harry likes to sit comfortably, and so, he spends the next half hour sitting peacefully and feeling happy. After the half hour has passed, he forces himself up and gets into those pantaloons. He knows that he won't be sitting comfortably for the rest of the day, and by the end of it, his legs will be so stiff, he'll probably fall in bed. But once again, he's a dandy, and dandies (repeat after me) must sacrifice.
At last, he has his boots on and is ready for the day. He enters the great St. James' street in hopes of attracting everyone's attention...well, now, whom should he but his wonderful cousin? Oh, how Malfoy radiates with natural handsomeness and simplistic elegance! Everyone is staring at him.
How dejected our Harry feels now, for he just spent the last five and a half hours dressing, and here he stands in his perfected costume...but no one looks at him...and what would it do but...
RAIN!
Oh well, it's dark already, the day is over (S. girl is tired), time to go home.
***
End
***
A/N: *laughs uncontrollably* Okay, I admit, that was totally pointless and extremely wordy, but you know what? Blame that on JAMES FENIMORE COOPER, MY SWORN ENEMY! He wrote Last of the Mohicans, but the way, AND IT IS TOO DAMN WORDY! So I got his style for being forced (in English) to read his works. I feel dead now.
*readers glare*
Okay, okay, next update by Sunday. I promise! ^-^
THIS CHAPTER HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE MAIN STORY PLOT! IT'S SOMETHING THAT HAS TO DO WITH MY ERR...WEIRD SENSE OF HUMOR.
I better not see any complaints in reviews about how I don't update, or you won't get an update at all! *evil laughter*
P.S. You all know what a dandy is.right? Okay, let's clear this up:
A dandy is like a guy model who walks around parks in London and they're referred to as the 'pink of the ton' (so I read somewhere), and they're arrogant idiots. Heh...I'm so mean...I actually love them.
Disclaimers: Hum...Hum...*hum some more and more and more* *handcuffed* *mumbles* Rouhgajdf lkjfds. *Dragged to prison* Don't own characters! Wah!
***
Hated Rainy Days
***
Harry Potter is what we can name as a poseur of a dandy, for you see, he -tries- to do everything just as a dandy ought, and by doing that, he has made himself a dandy wanna-be, so to speak. Although of a kind and sweet disposition when unveiled, Harry tends to act with like a narcissist, seems extremely arrogant, and shows not the least respect for anyone. He tries hard to make clever and rude comments at the right moment, he tries hard to tie his cravat in just the right way, and he tries hard to copy Brummell's (the king of all dandies) way of doing things snappily. However, all attempt at being an outstanding dandy is, unfortunately, quite overshadowed by his magnificent cousin, Draco Malfoy.
Whatever it is that Harry tries to do, it can never beat Draco. For example, this young man wakes up at a reasonably late hour (one in the afternoon), and would spend the next three trying to tie his cravat. It is not uncommon that he should spend the first hour contemplating just what style he wishes to tie it in.
"Would it be the Oriental tie?" he wonders to himself. "No, it doesn't match my coat. The Mathematical tie? I've never been much of a mathematician. The American tie? Oh dear, I'll die before doing anything American. They need to get rid of the horrid accent. The Napoleon tie? No, no, no, people will hate me for it. The mail coach tie? I haven't a mail coach. No point. The Ballroom tie? I shan't be entering a ballroom today. No point. The Horse Collar tie? Hmm...worth considering...no, too complicated. The Couleur Peau d'Ispahan? It is nice, but I don't think I shall be able to breathe at all in it. Aha! The Trone d'Amour. Yes, I shall find myself a perfect Amour today! I think I shall go with this one."
And so, when he finally finds a style he wishes to use, he and his varlet spend the next two hours trying to tie it in precisely the way asked. Of course, it is inevitable that there should be some failures...but Harry is a dandy, and dandies must sacrifice.
Then, when finally the stiff neck-cloth is securely and beautifully tied, we move to the next area of struggle; the coat. Yes, yes, you find it unreasonable that a man should spend a whole hour putting on a coat, but might I remind you again that Harry is a dandy. It is the fashion of dandies to wear a most fitting coat with a most fitting cut to show off a most fitting body (if one possesses such a thing). Luckily, Harry did have the third item on the list, but the first two are a bit iffy.
Looking through his closet, he would spend the first half hour contemplating just what coat he wishes to wear. No, you shan't find yourself going through all the coats he has. (Blue? Or is it red? Or perhaps dark is the fashion? How about green? White? No, it'll get stained. Red then? But I don't red! Or perhaps dark? But it is not too well fitting. Blue again? No, no, no.)
When finally he selects a coat he wishes to wear, he and his valet spend the next half hour trying to put it on. Considering you live in the twenty first century right now, and are up to date with twenty first century fashions, it is, perhaps, unfathomable for you to imagine a man spending half an hour struggling with his coat, but right now, we are in eighteenth century England, and keeping up to date with their fashions, it's not at all odd, for the coats were cut to fit a body so closely, it's a wrestle to try to wear it. However, this (long) part of the process of dressing is usually passed without trouble.
Next, the boy puts on his pantaloons (which you might imagine to be trousers, for they looks alike). This doesn't take quite so long, but you see, Harry likes to sit comfortably, and so, he spends the next half hour sitting peacefully and feeling happy. After the half hour has passed, he forces himself up and gets into those pantaloons. He knows that he won't be sitting comfortably for the rest of the day, and by the end of it, his legs will be so stiff, he'll probably fall in bed. But once again, he's a dandy, and dandies (repeat after me) must sacrifice.
At last, he has his boots on and is ready for the day. He enters the great St. James' street in hopes of attracting everyone's attention...well, now, whom should he but his wonderful cousin? Oh, how Malfoy radiates with natural handsomeness and simplistic elegance! Everyone is staring at him.
How dejected our Harry feels now, for he just spent the last five and a half hours dressing, and here he stands in his perfected costume...but no one looks at him...and what would it do but...
RAIN!
Oh well, it's dark already, the day is over (S. girl is tired), time to go home.
***
End
***
A/N: *laughs uncontrollably* Okay, I admit, that was totally pointless and extremely wordy, but you know what? Blame that on JAMES FENIMORE COOPER, MY SWORN ENEMY! He wrote Last of the Mohicans, but the way, AND IT IS TOO DAMN WORDY! So I got his style for being forced (in English) to read his works. I feel dead now.
*readers glare*
Okay, okay, next update by Sunday. I promise! ^-^
