for Where the cliff and lake went12/17/2024 c1 Athenii
your character Donald inspire me the most, I really like your writings it brings me joy and interested to keep attached with your literature, you words are like spell that keep me reading to the end, So there are various suggestion I would like to share as well as one prolific idea too, I hope you won't ignore your writing fan. We can chat in PM or in Discord what ever feasible for you. I am yearning to share it with you. Eagerly waiting for your response. Thanks
Discord : athenajhone01
your character Donald inspire me the most, I really like your writings it brings me joy and interested to keep attached with your literature, you words are like spell that keep me reading to the end, So there are various suggestion I would like to share as well as one prolific idea too, I hope you won't ignore your writing fan. We can chat in PM or in Discord what ever feasible for you. I am yearning to share it with you. Eagerly waiting for your response. Thanks
Discord : athenajhone01
7/10/2020 c1 
51Gottahavemyncis
Hello! Came over to your profile to send you a PM and re-read this. It's very clever!
51GottahavemyncisHello! Came over to your profile to send you a PM and re-read this. It's very clever!
8/15/2018 c1 2Beedle
Oh, I wondered where this was going as it seemed pretty random at first! Ha! I always thought Dumbledore's London Underground scar was a bit too far fetched (or that he was messing around when he told McGonagall this) so I love how you have actually written a short fic to explain it and make it plausible.
2BeedleOh, I wondered where this was going as it seemed pretty random at first! Ha! I always thought Dumbledore's London Underground scar was a bit too far fetched (or that he was messing around when he told McGonagall this) so I love how you have actually written a short fic to explain it and make it plausible.
9/12/2016 c1 noreenklose
I liked it.
Thanks for writing, I enjoyed reading your story.
My condolences about Bobmin 356...he is greatly missed.
You do a lot of Beta'ing, I see your name mentioned frequently.
You should write Fics too.
I liked it.
Thanks for writing, I enjoyed reading your story.
My condolences about Bobmin 356...he is greatly missed.
You do a lot of Beta'ing, I see your name mentioned frequently.
You should write Fics too.
7/7/2016 c1 Guest
For someone who spends their internet life correcting other people's grammar, your own is terrible. Have you ever heard of a capital? And as for your plot... pathetic. Get a job. This is rubbish.
For someone who spends their internet life correcting other people's grammar, your own is terrible. Have you ever heard of a capital? And as for your plot... pathetic. Get a job. This is rubbish.
11/17/2015 c1 Guest
What fucking planet are you on? This is FUCKING CRAP! Your grammar is awful. Are you retarded? I think you must be you are old enough and certainly ugly enough to know better. You're an obese divorcee fanbrat with an over inflated ego. Grow the fuck up shit head.
What fucking planet are you on? This is FUCKING CRAP! Your grammar is awful. Are you retarded? I think you must be you are old enough and certainly ugly enough to know better. You're an obese divorcee fanbrat with an over inflated ego. Grow the fuck up shit head.
7/7/2013 c1 Dismayed
So that's how he got the scar.
So that's how he got the scar.
12/31/2012 c1 JellyBean
Hi this is a decent fic but their are some mistakes, I've saw you review other fics and I'm sorry but you shouldn't be trying to be a beta reader especially if your not a perfect writer yourself,
Hi this is a decent fic but their are some mistakes, I've saw you review other fics and I'm sorry but you shouldn't be trying to be a beta reader especially if your not a perfect writer yourself,
12/31/2012 c1 Amiee
"Albus Dumbledore was in a bind. He had just heard and seen the worst of bad news and thus he owed Minerva McGonagall, his deputy at Hogwarts, an apology as large as Hogwarts herself for disregarding her misgivings about the dreadfulness of those Dursley muggles that long ago night at 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, when he left little Harry Potter on their doorstep.
In a distracted state, he boarded the South Western Mainline train to Waterloo station in London.
Dressed as he was, in a black velvet Edwardian suit, Albus Dumbledore drew a fair few sidelong glances, but he noticed none of them.
He took a seat next to a dumpy woman in jeans who was knitting.
Albus being Albus, and already being partial to knitting patterns noticed the intricate leaf pattern emerging in pastel wool and stared.
When the dumpy woman stabbed him in the thigh with the one end of the cable stitch holder, his draw at first dropped in astonishment.
Then he collapsed into the aisle, hissing, moaning and clutching his wounded thigh.
The conductor sped off in one direction, screaming for a doctor, as the railway policeman on duty arrested the woman who stabbed Albus and read her her rights.
The next thing Albus knew, he was looking up into twinkling blue eyes, much like his own normally looked.
"We need to stop the bleeding, sir," said a soft Edinburgh brogue.
"you're a hea-…er…doctor?"
"Yes sir."
Albus winced as his pant leg was cut away. The steel of the scissors was so cold it burnt his skin.
Then a pair of feminine hands pressed what felt like a tea towel against the wound. It WAS a tea towel, Albus saw out of the corner of his eye.
"Mother, you are ruining your souvenir!"
"Damn my souvenir, Donald! This man cannot bleed to death!"
Unbeknownst to Albus, when the bleeding stopped, stitches were put in and a pressure bandage wound round his thigh – Donald, not Mother, did the winding and the stitching prior – the motif on the tea towel was traced onto Albus's thigh permanently.
(And that is how the headmaster came to have a scar on his one leg that looks exactly like a map of the London Underground.)
"how can I ever repay you?" Albus wanted to know from Donald the doctor as he (Albus) limped from the carriage at Waterloo station.
Donald's eyes twinkled in a very familiar manner as he replied: "Don't you worry, Albus, I will collect."'
Dude it bucking annoys people when you do crap like that so I thought I'd see how you like it, it's a pain to those reading reviews as it friggin means they need to re read a lot of the fic until they hit the review and this fic is pure keek you shouldn't be criticising other writers until you can write yerself
"Albus Dumbledore was in a bind. He had just heard and seen the worst of bad news and thus he owed Minerva McGonagall, his deputy at Hogwarts, an apology as large as Hogwarts herself for disregarding her misgivings about the dreadfulness of those Dursley muggles that long ago night at 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, when he left little Harry Potter on their doorstep.
In a distracted state, he boarded the South Western Mainline train to Waterloo station in London.
Dressed as he was, in a black velvet Edwardian suit, Albus Dumbledore drew a fair few sidelong glances, but he noticed none of them.
He took a seat next to a dumpy woman in jeans who was knitting.
Albus being Albus, and already being partial to knitting patterns noticed the intricate leaf pattern emerging in pastel wool and stared.
When the dumpy woman stabbed him in the thigh with the one end of the cable stitch holder, his draw at first dropped in astonishment.
Then he collapsed into the aisle, hissing, moaning and clutching his wounded thigh.
The conductor sped off in one direction, screaming for a doctor, as the railway policeman on duty arrested the woman who stabbed Albus and read her her rights.
The next thing Albus knew, he was looking up into twinkling blue eyes, much like his own normally looked.
"We need to stop the bleeding, sir," said a soft Edinburgh brogue.
"you're a hea-…er…doctor?"
"Yes sir."
Albus winced as his pant leg was cut away. The steel of the scissors was so cold it burnt his skin.
Then a pair of feminine hands pressed what felt like a tea towel against the wound. It WAS a tea towel, Albus saw out of the corner of his eye.
"Mother, you are ruining your souvenir!"
"Damn my souvenir, Donald! This man cannot bleed to death!"
Unbeknownst to Albus, when the bleeding stopped, stitches were put in and a pressure bandage wound round his thigh – Donald, not Mother, did the winding and the stitching prior – the motif on the tea towel was traced onto Albus's thigh permanently.
(And that is how the headmaster came to have a scar on his one leg that looks exactly like a map of the London Underground.)
"how can I ever repay you?" Albus wanted to know from Donald the doctor as he (Albus) limped from the carriage at Waterloo station.
Donald's eyes twinkled in a very familiar manner as he replied: "Don't you worry, Albus, I will collect."'
Dude it bucking annoys people when you do crap like that so I thought I'd see how you like it, it's a pain to those reading reviews as it friggin means they need to re read a lot of the fic until they hit the review and this fic is pure keek you shouldn't be criticising other writers until you can write yerself
7/18/2012 c1 25Miriam1
I love this wonderful snapshot, and it makes me interested to read the story that you referred to.
You have some (what I like to refer to as) housekeeping issues.
"You're a hea-...er...doctor?" ("You're" needs to be capitalized.)
"How can I ever repay you?" ("How" needs to be capitalized.)
In any event, this was sweet, and I'm glad to have discovered it.
Sincerely,
Miriam
25Miriam1I love this wonderful snapshot, and it makes me interested to read the story that you referred to.
You have some (what I like to refer to as) housekeeping issues.
"You're a hea-...er...doctor?" ("You're" needs to be capitalized.)
"How can I ever repay you?" ("How" needs to be capitalized.)
In any event, this was sweet, and I'm glad to have discovered it.
Sincerely,
Miriam