Some day, this will be a "Last.fm/NetFlix/Amazon for web fiction" (both original and fanfiction) where you can search across many different hosting sites or rate what you've read and get recommendations. However, life keeps throwing more urgent projects my way, so I don't know when it'll be ready.
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/5786099/15/"So you really aren't angry?" Harry asked, his voice .
Sirius was smiling as if Christmas had come early. "No, why should I be?"
"She was your mother!" Hermione pressed out.
A loud laugh was the first reply she got. "Wow, felt good to laugh without being screamed at. Hermione, that was not my mother. She's dead for a decade. That was a piece of enchanted canvas, imbued with a simulation of her, at her worst. It was a constant reminder how horrible she had become. I would rather remember the kinder person she was, occasionally. I'm not sorry, at all, that she managed to wake the dragon. Don't we all know to not tickle a sleeping one?"
"Huh? Who would tickle a sleeping dragon?" Margret asked, confused.
"That's the school motto, mum. Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus," Hermione replied. "Don't ask, no one knows the origin."
"Sounds like a story that would start with, 'You know, that night, someone had a wee bit too much ale...'," Henry chuckled behind them.
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