| dooglevoluna @ 2004-04-17 20:05:00 |
| Current mood: | colourless |
It can't be my Weasley. There's another who lived in the deserts of Austrailia I'm told, right outside amongst the wallabies, no less. It must have been that one, not mine. Daddy is looking into it. He calls The Daily Prophet by a different name, The Daily Rubbish, which is very funny when he says it in that nasal voice he likes to pretend with sometimes.
It really can't be my Weasley.
Why does nothing look pink as it usually does?
But surely unto Thee mine eyes did show
Why I am silent, and my lute unstrung;
Else it were better we should part, and go,
Thou to some lips of sweeter melody,
And I to nurse the barren memory
Of unkissed kisses and songs never sung.
Comments:
| blushcrush @ 2004-04-19 05:01 am UTC |
Explain something to me, Luna, because I'm a little confused you know, I don't understand where Australia figures into any of this but I suppose that's not important anyway. Which Weasley is yours? Is it Ron? Is it me? Was it George? Ron did return your glasses, right? Maybe you should put them on because you know, maybe it will help you decide which of us you want to call your Weasley.
| dooglevoluna @ 2004-04-19 05:11 am UTC |
Ginny will always be my Weasley because I am her Loonylove. Ronald, George, Bill, Charlie, Fred, Percy, Mummy, Daddy, they are all a part of my Ginny which makes her my Weasley. I am her Loonylove as long as she wants me to be.
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