Harry Dresden

Room 506, Monday Evening

Tue, 15 Apr 2008 00:46:23 GMT

Harry had planned on doing a little studying for math tonight. He figured it made sense, since he'd had class today and it would still be fresh in his mind.

Of course, Harry hadn't counted on the weetiny sheep. They were way more entertaining than math. Especially the sheep that had taken up residence on Bob's shelf.

"Dresden. DRESDEN! They're trying to crawl inside my eyesockets!"

Harry snickered and offered a cracker to a purple sheep on his desk.

[Door and post are open.]

Room 506, Sunday Night

Mon, 31 Mar 2008 02:30:29 GMT

Harry had had a good day. He'd eaten lots of junk food, he'd found a helmet for Bob and decorated it with lots and lots and lots of shiny stickers and sparkly things, and he'd played with a polar bear.

Now he was tired, so he was curled up in his bed.

"Tell me a story, Bob!" He grinned at the skull next to him, still in its shiny helmet.

"No way Dresden. I'm not your babysitter. Well, I try not to be."

"Pleeeeease Bob! I'll find you a new book!"

"Dresden, I am not interested in any of the Curious George crap you'd bring home. Go to sleep."

"Can't sleep. I need a stoooory! Pleeeease!"

Bob shook, well, himself. "No way. Not unless you promise to owe me big time once you're back to your normal self. Well, normal as you ever get.""

Harry thought about this for a minute. "I am normal! Um. I'll let you go out and play again if you tell me a story!"

Bob's eyes gleamed. "You'll let me out?"

Harry nodded. "Uh huh. Tomorrow. You can go out and play tomorrow." Weetiny wizards weren't as careful with their word choices as big wizards. Harry had no idea he'd just given Bob permission to leave his skull tomorrow. Bob was going to take full advantage of this.

"Okay Harry. Here's your story. Once upon a time, there was a tiny wizard named Harry. Harry had a friend named Bob. Bob was a fabulous, intelligent, amazing spirit. Harry wouldn't be able to get along without him..."

Harry giggled. He liked funny stories.

"As I was saying," Bob continued, "Bob was fabulous, and intelligent, and amazing and the hapless overgrown wizard who was now tiny for some unknown reason would he helpless without him. The normally freakishly tall but currently undersized wizard owed Bob a lot..."

The story continued on like that, even after Harry had drifted off to sleep. Bob liked to hear himself complimented, even when he was the one doing the complimenting.

[Alas, establishy since I'm about to crash. I took 4.5 hours worth of naps today, you'd think that would be enough sleeping. Roomie is of course welcome to use the room for his own purposes or to get another bedtime story.]

Room 506, Saturday Morning

Sat, 29 Mar 2008 16:05:42 GMT

Harry was up early and bouncing on his bed. The usual Saturday sort of routine for a wee wizard. And if it was the usual routine, there had to be some tormenting of the skull on his shelf above the desk.

"Bob! Bob! Bobbobbobbob! WAKE UP BOB!"

The skull groaned and the orange lights in its eyesockets flickered briefly before going out again.

"Dresden, it's early morning. Go back to snoring."

"I don't snore Bob! BOB WAKE UP YOU STUPIDHEAD!"

The skull glared in Harry's direction for about half a second before it realized what it was seeing. "Dresden! Dresden WHAT DID YOU DO?"

"I bounced onna bed and I woke you up," Harry said, confused. "Didn't do anything else yet."

"Dresden...you're tiny. Not just your brain, all of you. What happened?" The skull might have sounded concerned, but it definitely sounded annoyed.

"I'm 6! I'm not tiny! I'm taller than you, stupid skull. And you're a meanie!"

The skull managed to turn itself to face the wall and then started knocking its bony forehead against said wall, a knock punctuating each word. "Only. You. Would. Do. This."

Harry frowned at the skull. "Told you I didn't do nothing! Go back to sleep. You're no fun!" Bored with his skull for now, the boy resumed bouncing on his bed. Beds were more fun than stupid old skulls anyway.

[Open if you like, though I may disappear for random periods of time.]

Room 506, Saturday Night

Sun, 13 Jan 2008 05:16:10 GMT

Harry had spent the entire day in bed, feeling miserable. His stomach hurt, his head hurt, he was cranky, he felt fat, and he was getting upset over the stupidest things. Basically, life for Harry was sucking today.

Bob wasn't helping. At all. In fact, Bob was wrapped up in a towel with a bunch of Harry's dirty socks right now. In the back of the closet. Harry would maintain that he deserved it, and he'd put up with a lot from that stupid insensitive skull today. "Stop being such a woman, Dresden," was the final straw. Really.

And now that Bob was banished to the closet, Bob's books were free. And if Bob was banished, he wouldn't know if Harry were to read them and have a good cry. He hadn't given in to the temptation yet, but there was a definite chance it would happen before the night was done.

[Mostly establishy because I'm going to sleep soon, but the roomie could always tag in]

OOC: Info post

Sat, 05 Jan 2008 04:37:22 GMT

Well, maybe not everything. I forget things. Or I talk too much.

-My Harry is book!Harry, not tv!Harry.

-Harry's a wizard.

-Wizards in Harry's universe have an unfortunate effect on electronics and newfangled machines. Your computer is not safe around Harry. Your TV is not safe. Your cell phone is not safe. Your vintage automobile? Probably safe. Although this being Fandom, everything is safe until you tell me otherwise.

-Harry does not make eye contact. This does not mean he does not like you, it just means he has no desire to soulgaze you. If Harry, or any other wizard, maintains eye contact with another person for too long they get an up close and personal view of that person's soul (good, bad, ugly, demonic, etc). It works both ways, so you'd get a good look at the inside of Harry's soul too. This will probably not happen anytime in the near future.

-Harry has something called the Doom of Damocles on him. Essentially, a scary guy named Morgan is waiting not far away to chop off Harry's head if he thinks Harry has turned to the Dark Side. Morgan actually has a good reason for this, sort of. This makes Harry kind of cranky.

-The above good reason? Harry killed his mentor and girlfriend/fellow apprentice with fire. Magical fire. Now, they were trying to enthrall him and make him evil at the time so it was all in self-defense, but Morgan and many other wizards think Harry is Evil and should be destroyed. This contributes to the cranky.

-Harry's been living with the one wizard who stood up for him on a farm in Missouri for the past two years before coming to Fandom. Harry respects and trusts this wizard very much. Other people? Not so much.

-Harry has a temper and is kind of angry at the world. He's also trying to be good so he doesn't end up decapitated. So cranky, but hopefully well-behaved. And he probably won't be too obnoxious at first. Give him a few days to work up to it.

-Harry has a pet skull named Bob. Except Bob isn't really a pet or a skull. He's a spirit of air and intellect who helps Harry in wizardly things, and also snarks at him and reads terrible romance novels. Bob is made of awesome.

-Harry also always wears a silver pentacle necklace. It's from his mommy (aww) who's dead.

-His dad's also dead. And his adoptive father/mentor is dead of burnination. So's his girlfriend. Many people are dead. Harry might have something of a complex about this.

-Harry is very tall. Someday I will have icons, and you can pretend whoever is in them is very tall. For now, pretend James Marsters is very tall.(I know, it's hard)

Like I said, sometimes I forget things. So feel free to ask about whatever.

A Farm in the Ozarks...

Fri, 04 Jan 2008 05:24:04 GMT

"I trust you, hoss. That's what matters here. Don't need no damned warden telling me what I can do with my apprentice." Ebenezar snorted at the boy standing in front of him. "Now go get your things. This truck's leaving for Virginia in an hour. You best be in it when it does."

Harry stared. He'd been doing a lot of that the past few days, ever since this whole going back to school thing came up. He'd pretty much resigned himself to the idea that he'd be on this farm until Ebenezar or the Council decided he could go off and be a real boy. He just figured the day that happened he'd be 30 or so. Either that or Morgan would have chopped off his head before he ever got to the real boy stage of his life.

"You're sure about this sir? And they agreed?" It was hard for Harry to keep from sneering, but the White Council had that effect on him. Of course, if a group of people you'd never met had wanted to kill you for saving your own life and not going evil, you'd probably be a little bitter too. "I won't end up ending my high school career prematurely again and I won't be shorter by a head next time you see me?"

"Careful hoss," Ebenezar warned. "Go on upstairs. Get your things. Everything's arranged. But if you don't get moving..."

Arguing was something Harry was good at. Even when arguing wasn't his best option. Sometimes though, his brain managed to keep his mouth shut at the right times. "Yes sir."

**

"Bob?"

"'m sleeping," came the reply from the skull on his desk.

"You don't sleep," Harry answered automatically. "You're a skull. You know anything about a place called Fandom? There's this school there. Apparently I'm being paroled. Or transferred to a lower security facility."

The skull's eyesockets lit up orange. "Fandom? It's an island. Weird place. Weird people. Weirder than you Dresden." The skull continued to talk, and insult his owner, while Harry packed up what few things he had that he thought he should be taking with him. And in spite of the skull's protests, the list of packed items did not include any trashy romance novels.

"Bob. Keep it up and I'll leave you here. Maybe put you somewhere the dogs might find you," Harry threatened. "Dogs like bones. Or bears. Bears probably like bones too. Nice and crunchy. So shut up."

It might have been the threat of being eaten by bears, or it might have been the thought of nubile high school girls that did it, but Bob quieted down.

Well, he was quiet until an hour or so into the trip when he started a rousing rendition of "99 bottles of beer on the wall" from inside Harry's backpack. At least it wasn't a dirty song. Yet.

[Establishy, yay! And someday, I swear, there will be icons for this journal. Really.]