Got no titles, insomnia sucked out my brains. OR Minor dissertation on Harry potter Psyche types in real life situations

Okay boys, girls and homo reptilians, it's time for nobodies' favorite blog, this one *chuckle* I suppose it's more like my late night, can't sleep, expound upon what is in my big old head before it flits elsewhere, yeah? Beware, there is cursing. Um. Fuck yeah. Mostly just because I am tired and my brain is trying to shut down but is currently in blue screen mode (so yeah, not cool) but cannot yet shut down OR reboot.

Onwards. Manythings. But this one has been there a while.

I get picked on for being a drarry fan.. mostly by my kids.. and yes you probably say, ewww old enough to have kids (not that old really, thank you), but I rather like the older fics where they are late 20s and 30's and build on the whole  jungle of character growth set before them in Rowling's books, and then some. Sometimes with the epilogues, usually without. But here is why: I see myself in Draco, a LOT. And I see my husband in Harry a  LOT. Yes, I realize Daniel Radcliffe has a nice ass, and so does my dear dh but that is about where the similarities end there.. I mean character wise. And not on the base levels of he had money, or he had fame, but of the dynamics in the households..

So here goes.. at least in my head.

Draco grew up in a household where the dad was a controlling, manipulative follower (interesting juxtaposition that), who was obsessed by madness (in this case in the form of the Dark Lord).  That pretty much has my father in one there- only the madness is his own... There are so many parallels between the character that is Lucius and the man that is my father- Voldemort was a madness unto his own, my father's madness is in his own head, and he makes himself forget its there when he wants (convenient, eh, self- obliviation of that manic-depressive disorder and bipolar and anger/violence issues) Syrup drips from their lips when they want it to, but they are absolutely vindictive and cutting with their words when they choose to be.  They can offer up their families to evil bits and think its a good thing. They can twist and warp the truth of the world to what they see it to be. They can physically and mentally torture with the best of them. Minor differences- cane and wand versus belts and switches. You say potato, I say, oh wait, potato.

I think my husband is much like Harry- he got the good initial start in life- I won't say that his parents are James and Lily- but they are good working class honest people, who taught him well. And he is a hell of a man. He showed up as my hero from day one, always rushing in to save me, always brave, always figuring out the next adventure- and believe me they never end- seven books has NOTHING on us.. He always pulls it out at the last minute, figuring out a solution or finding an answer or saving my day. Though I think he's got Hermione's brains and maybe Snape's wit, but that's neither here nor there. The POINT is, that he is that indelible character in my life, that always wins, always figures the clues out, and still has the biggest heart and soul at the end of the day. He's like.. true love (I know another reference, but it bears mention.. ) not even death can stop him.

No final battles here though, just good old hubby (and sometimes the in laws) kickin' some ass and saying enough, get out of my house, leave my family alone, which in my mind, really, is equivalent to a nice fat expelliarmus. Doesn't hurt to throw in a restraining order or two- not as savvy as a ward, but it works better than a poke in the eye.

I think maybe the reason I like to read this stuff is that they wind up okay in the end- the death, destruction, torture, pain, everything they see and live through, in the end they wind up coming through it and surviving. I tend to pick out the stories that pitt them together as eventual friends, or companions, because in the end, that's what everyone wants I think- all the crap burned away from us, the chaff gone, cleansed, and to have the hero standing there offering us maybe not the hand up but a hand in friendship in the aftermath. Someone to say, I get it, after the fit has all hit the shan, the chips have fallen, and the cleanup is underway.

In the end I guess that means no matter how many times I have fucked things up, how much my father has jacked EVERYONE's lives up and how much pain he's wrought just because he's an asshat and can make the hero give up. None of that cane take away the inevitable ending that the hero (that would be dh, because he is fabulousness on two legs)  and the miserable un-hero (that's me, because I am surely nowhere near a hero) wind up in some kind of balance that leaves the hero happier in the end, and the un-hero, much better knowing the hero- happy, but redeemed. And not just Ah, shake hands, move on, teeny bopper fan child happy happy fiction endings sort of things.. but adult, I-am-really-putting-effort-in-thing-for-the-long-haul kind of things. REAL things, not Hollywood. Or Scholastic, or whatever.

Now then, that my brain has properly deflated somewhat, I am going to go have naughty dreams, and not think about this particular train of thought any longer. Vanquished are you, train of thought.. choo-chooooooooooo.

Ha. I'm funny when I'm sleep deprived.... okay, not really.