Sui Generis, Latin: of his, her, its, or their own kind: unique. People say that it's the Slytherins' endless ambition that gets them in so much trouble. Right now, these four Slytherins' greatest ambition is to stay alive. Trouble doesn't worry them much

Ginny Weasely is stuck as Maid of Honor in two separate, highly unconventonal weddings. She's none too happy about the situation, as it only reminds her that she is Without a Wizard. To top things off, she's hungry, and she's not allowed to eat her hat...

In a war, most everything is the sort of thing that can disappear with a shrug. People's eyes start to disappear. Melt into their faces. Sometimes you just have to forget things.

A home for all the little pointless nothings that pop up in my head in the middle of the night. Short things, perfect to accompany that illicit cookie in your hand. Rated per chapter.

Lily and James learn Newton's Laws of Motion. First hand. One Book in Motion tends to prevent two Objects Not in Motion from snogging in the stairwell...

The footprints on the crimson cushions of the windowseat point Southeast. No one needs a headline to know where the wind’s blown the ash.

James, I'm throwing the lamp away. Oh, what furor these words can cause. What horror! What amazement! What chaos! What snogging! Who ever said destiny couldn't be fulfilled by a lamp?

It five thirty five in the morning. It's all retribution personified.

Everything is in fractions of moments now. The hesitance before one speaks, the hitch just before one steps through a doorway. There is a fraction of a moment when the knife is poised hanging in the air before...

I’ve come to assume, over the years, just out of plain experience, that it is not a common occurrence to have people frolic about on the roof of my house. Oneshot. HG.

The prose behind the dialogue. The thoughts, actions, and revelations that surrounded Lily and James during my alldialogue piece, Redundancy. It involves butter. And dinner rolls. And other stuff. Mmhmm...

“Lily, getting you to go out with me is not a challenge. It’s an impossible feat that will only result in death or dismemberment. Or castration, though hopefully you’ll be kind enough to stick with the other options. But I have my doubts.”

Quills don’t handle rejection very well, and this one was no exception. It felt very rejected indeed.

Silly little alldialogue drabble. Ron and Hermione. Dinner. Potatoes. If I told you any more, it'd be pointless for you to read it. Rated T just to be sure.

Once she wore a green silk ribbon in her hair. Once it danced on the wind and once it faded in a drawer and once it wrapped around fingers in a pocket. Once it dried in front of the fire and dripped from the snow and always it made the dark go away.

They called her loony but that was because she understood. That was because she had answers to those unanswered questions. That was because she knew that meaning came in the form of a handful of little paper stars.

Tom Riddle laughed in triumph as the dust descended and the colors faded, and Ginny Weasley had seen in his eyes the snake that had slaughtered the world.

OneShot. RH. He asked her what she saw in the fire. She answered him with one simple word, Life.

Random Oneshot. Add an s to ferret, wouldn't fit. A twist on the traditional fairy tale, and my version of the defeat of MoldieWarts. Which was really an accident involving a sconce on the wall and a decapitated dragon...

COMPLETE. Ginny isn't a happy camper. What with a HalfNakedFlyingDwarf following her around, butterdishes and mashed potatoes forming conspiracies against her, and the eminent doom her eyebrows are facing, Valentine's is looking pretty shabby.