Much as I wanted to see something, a hint, a vague suspect of preslash in it, the story I am going to post is an irrevocably generic one. No pairing, no sex, no romance. The archive I usually post into is a slash-only site, hence the fact that I'm posting on my LJ an Italian translation.
The original story is Beyond the pale , by
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lovely_slyth ( Olivia Lupin ) and under the cut you'll find details and info. Take very seriously the 'angst' warning. I can be an irritating fluffy-heart, but here is fully justified. As I wanted to see something, a hint, a vague suspicion of preslash, I am going to publish the story is hopelessly generic. No couples, no sex, no romance. The archive of writing usually is devoted solely to the slash, which is why the public on my LJ a translation into Italian. The original story is
Beyond The Pale of
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lovely_slyth ( Olivia Lupin) and follow the link you will find all the details and information. Take very seriously the warning of 'angst'. I can also be a heart of cream unbearable, but this time is really justified. * * * * * * * * * *
DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all the characters in the saga are the property of JK Rowling and whoever possesses the rights. This story has no profit motive, and does not intend to break any laws on copyright and publishing rights.
WARNING: all the characters in this story are imaginary and have no connection with reality. Any name and reference to events or real people is perfectly random.
_______________________________________________________________________
Title: Beyond The Pale (Spectrum pale)
Author: lovely_slyth ( Olivia Lupin )
Link: the original story can be found here .
Translator: grace75 ( Grace )
Beta: eloriee ( Lori )
Rating: G
Plot: What color are your thoughts, Draco?
Disclaimer: characters This story belongs to JKR and all those who hold the copyright. The story itself belongs to its original author.
Warnings: angst . Tanta. Note from the translator
: Olivia, by his own admission, she felt caught in a dark muse, irritable and that the son did write this little picture of anxiety for the release of the book.
share.
(When I saw the title, my brain has fished out of the shadows an old song by Tori Amos on "Doughnut Song" because the chorus goes like this:
and if I'm wasting all your time
this time maybe you never learned to take
and if I'm hanging on to your shade I guess I'm
Way Beyond The Pale
From monomaniac good, I have read and translated by that one song in loop. The matches are almost emotional bulky. It's a beautiful song, that is the angst that pervades it. Word of the heart of cream.)
In those first weeks, his moods were those who dyed her whole world.
of any color felt, was the same shade that took everything around him, was like seeing everything through a monochromatic filter. He thought that would pass within a day or two, and when it had not happened, it was asked with a kind of indifference away if he had not started to go crazy, but failed to put together the energy to worry about .
Madness, every so often thought, could be an attractive possibility.
could even have its own color. Many things had
. She was beginning to find out.
He moved just wet on the floor, turning a quick look at the form of Professor Snape, shaken by an irregular sleep, then went back to fix the light of early morning.
That day there was a new color. It was a silvery gray, and pale shadows cast by the trees swayed just lighter shade on the floor. Carefully probe the cesspool of his thoughts, trying to identify the state of mind that exists with the new color, and after a moment he relaxed slightly. The silver-gray, he decided, was to mean 'insensitive'.
The colors were the only way I had to guess at least vaguely how he felt. At first it was a source of enormous confusion, because the colors did not reflect that he lived longer the same state of mind in which they had been associated in the past.
Earlier he connected the yellow to purple to happiness and serenity and peace. The green was a color that's always been suggested that energy and substance, and blue was her favorite of all: it was the color he saw every night behind closed eyelids, just before falling asleep.
But all that system of associations did not exist anymore, and he did not have any sense that for the first three days after that Professor Snape had helped him escape from Hogwarts, he had felt wrapped in purple.
certainly did not feel calm, rested and not even remotely.
had headaches constantly, in part because he struggled along with a few hours of sleep, but above all, he knew, because his mind was full of problems and situations that trying to solve or address all the time. His brain was always moving and bouncing with frequent thoughts about his father - was still in Azkaban? - And his mother - was still alive? - With memories of a gentle voice that promised things too tempting for him to trust. All mixed-voice mocking and threats and fear and loneliness and feelings of anger and failure and useless to a pair of eyes green full of discontent, which seemed to see everything and yet nothing.
But the worst were the memories that resurfaced with fear. Those thoughts, she knew, is more easily dealt head-on and with courage, with many fears were based on psychological insecurities and, once recognized this weakness, lost most of their power, but those memories were floating in the darkest recesses of his mind and refused to be confronted and defeated once and for all. Thoughts of dementors and werewolves and vivid red-eye and a cold voice and a laugh crazy: those memories of fear and stifled the circumventing all his efforts to defeat them.
He thought that perhaps when she saw all purple, it was because his subconscious was trying to tell him to stay calm.
But when the purple had turned yellow, he had put aside all his old mental associations of colors and moods, and had begun to form new ones. The purple became the color of bruises, the yellow was uncertainty and regret and fear. The green was the rage and blue, the color that once represented for him the gradient soft, comforting and wonderful sleep, had become a symbol of a painful fatigue that intoxicated to the bone.
There were lots of blue days.
was so tired from not being able to fall asleep, even when he knew there was Professor Snape guard. Once the man had tried to give him a slight soporific potion, but the result had been disastrous had horrific nightmares and he woke up screaming.
Grey, decided with caution, it was not as bad as color.
slowly lifted a hand before his face and said, identifying the different shades of monochrome spectrum. Her skin was a white almost translucent glacial and nails. He looked pale as a corpse's hand, and had to flex the fingers to make sure you're still alive, just the same when asked what color could be death.
~ ~ End
_______________________________________________________________________
A note deserves the title, and the translation that I chose to give him: 'Beyond the Pale' is an idiomatic expression which literally means' unacceptable, excessive, beyond the limit '. But the main thrust here is related to color, this 'wheel' (pale) skin and nails of Draco, which reflects the silver gray of his state of mind. I chose to ignore the meaning shifted and tried to highlight the concept of color. 'Pale Spectre' also refers to the spectrum Monochrome perceptions of Draco and the fact that you hear a dead man walking.
not know about you, but the anguish of this Draco is forced to move the hands as pale as a ghost to make sure he is still alive, I have broken my heart.
_______________________________________________________________________
trace of your passage: a review, even briefly, is the daily bread for a translator. And the original author, who will receive your entry, you may not appreciate that. Thanks!
Grace
WARNING: all the characters in this story are imaginary and have no connection with reality. Any name and reference to events or real people is perfectly random.
_______________________________________________________________________
Title: Beyond The Pale (Spectrum pale)
Author:
lovely_slyth ( Olivia Lupin ) Link: the original story can be found here .
Translator:
grace75 ( Grace ) Beta:
eloriee ( Lori ) Rating: G
Plot: What color are your thoughts, Draco?
Disclaimer: characters This story belongs to JKR and all those who hold the copyright. The story itself belongs to its original author.
Warnings: angst . Tanta. Note from the translator
: Olivia, by his own admission, she felt caught in a dark muse, irritable and that the son did write this little picture of anxiety for the release of the book.
share.
(When I saw the title, my brain has fished out of the shadows an old song by Tori Amos on "Doughnut Song" because the chorus goes like this:
and if I'm wasting all your time
this time maybe you never learned to take
and if I'm hanging on to your shade I guess I'm
Way Beyond The Pale
From monomaniac good, I have read and translated by that one song in loop. The matches are almost emotional bulky. It's a beautiful song, that is the angst that pervades it. Word of the heart of cream.)
Dedicated to 'Slytherin adorable Olivia. Long live the fandom.
Beyond The Pale (Pale Spectre), Olivia Lupin
Chapter one
In those first weeks, his moods were those who dyed her whole world.
of any color felt, was the same shade that took everything around him, was like seeing everything through a monochromatic filter. He thought that would pass within a day or two, and when it had not happened, it was asked with a kind of indifference away if he had not started to go crazy, but failed to put together the energy to worry about .
Madness, every so often thought, could be an attractive possibility.
could even have its own color. Many things had
. She was beginning to find out.
He moved just wet on the floor, turning a quick look at the form of Professor Snape, shaken by an irregular sleep, then went back to fix the light of early morning.
That day there was a new color. It was a silvery gray, and pale shadows cast by the trees swayed just lighter shade on the floor. Carefully probe the cesspool of his thoughts, trying to identify the state of mind that exists with the new color, and after a moment he relaxed slightly. The silver-gray, he decided, was to mean 'insensitive'.
The colors were the only way I had to guess at least vaguely how he felt. At first it was a source of enormous confusion, because the colors did not reflect that he lived longer the same state of mind in which they had been associated in the past.
Earlier he connected the yellow to purple to happiness and serenity and peace. The green was a color that's always been suggested that energy and substance, and blue was her favorite of all: it was the color he saw every night behind closed eyelids, just before falling asleep.
But all that system of associations did not exist anymore, and he did not have any sense that for the first three days after that Professor Snape had helped him escape from Hogwarts, he had felt wrapped in purple.
certainly did not feel calm, rested and not even remotely.
had headaches constantly, in part because he struggled along with a few hours of sleep, but above all, he knew, because his mind was full of problems and situations that trying to solve or address all the time. His brain was always moving and bouncing with frequent thoughts about his father - was still in Azkaban? - And his mother - was still alive? - With memories of a gentle voice that promised things too tempting for him to trust. All mixed-voice mocking and threats and fear and loneliness and feelings of anger and failure and useless to a pair of eyes green full of discontent, which seemed to see everything and yet nothing.
But the worst were the memories that resurfaced with fear. Those thoughts, she knew, is more easily dealt head-on and with courage, with many fears were based on psychological insecurities and, once recognized this weakness, lost most of their power, but those memories were floating in the darkest recesses of his mind and refused to be confronted and defeated once and for all. Thoughts of dementors and werewolves and vivid red-eye and a cold voice and a laugh crazy: those memories of fear and stifled the circumventing all his efforts to defeat them.
He thought that perhaps when she saw all purple, it was because his subconscious was trying to tell him to stay calm.
But when the purple had turned yellow, he had put aside all his old mental associations of colors and moods, and had begun to form new ones. The purple became the color of bruises, the yellow was uncertainty and regret and fear. The green was the rage and blue, the color that once represented for him the gradient soft, comforting and wonderful sleep, had become a symbol of a painful fatigue that intoxicated to the bone.
There were lots of blue days.
was so tired from not being able to fall asleep, even when he knew there was Professor Snape guard. Once the man had tried to give him a slight soporific potion, but the result had been disastrous had horrific nightmares and he woke up screaming.
Grey, decided with caution, it was not as bad as color.
slowly lifted a hand before his face and said, identifying the different shades of monochrome spectrum. Her skin was a white almost translucent glacial and nails. He looked pale as a corpse's hand, and had to flex the fingers to make sure you're still alive, just the same when asked what color could be death.
~ ~ End
_______________________________________________________________________
A note deserves the title, and the translation that I chose to give him: 'Beyond the Pale' is an idiomatic expression which literally means' unacceptable, excessive, beyond the limit '. But the main thrust here is related to color, this 'wheel' (pale) skin and nails of Draco, which reflects the silver gray of his state of mind. I chose to ignore the meaning shifted and tried to highlight the concept of color. 'Pale Spectre' also refers to the spectrum Monochrome perceptions of Draco and the fact that you hear a dead man walking.
not know about you, but the anguish of this Draco is forced to move the hands as pale as a ghost to make sure he is still alive, I have broken my heart.
_______________________________________________________________________
trace of your passage: a review, even briefly, is the daily bread for a translator. And the original author, who will receive your entry, you may not appreciate that. Thanks!
Grace
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