Writing a fic? Don't know how to describe a certain place? Well here, we should post our own descriptions of places in the Harry Potter world. It can be art, too if your not that good a writer. At any rate, just post anything that has to do with locations in Harry Potter's world here. I, personally, am writing a fic which will features Snape's home soon, so I thought I would practice describing it in a way different from how JKR does. *description is my weakest point in writing*. Let me know what you think, or if this was lame.
At any rate, Spinnings End description in my head is as follows:
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Away from London, lay an industrial mill town area called Spinners End. It was small but still filled with people and buildings alike. The mill stood by a river, and was noticeable, simply by its vast size. The tall, thin, chimney towered over the houses, but smoke no longer squeezed its way out, as there was no use to keep the building running.
You could smell the foul water, as you walked several streets away. Moss lay on the steep rocks in the river. As you approach the railing at the top of the bank, there is a badly patched street, which seemed to be curved and uneven. Brick houses lined up together, along the narrow street, and it was rather like the Dursley’s home in Privet Drive, where every house seemed the same. More rows were connected by alleyways, and each of these alleyways hid something. A woman, cried in the corner hidden in one alleyway, a young child screamed for her mother in another; then the dog. It laid, nothing but skin and bones, in a corner, whimpering in pain. No cars came across the dirty street. Broken light polls that never turned the colors such as green or red, stood in the crossings of the street. One in the crossroads, tilted to the side. As you walked onwards, you noticed the bare housing; how windows were boarded up, how, except for the homeless, this particular neighborhood seemed bare, perhaps even daunting. One place lay, still alive and well. It was tall, and red-bricked, much like the other buildings. A sign lay above the entrance labeling it “Fish n’ Chip”. In the window, a sign glowed, welcoming customers inside. On the opposite side, to the left, it announced that the shop offered “Cod, Chips, and Mushy Peas”.
Finally, at the end of the row, stood a small, rather old looking house. As you walked in, the rooms were noticeably small. The first room held an armchair and a sofa, both of which face a wall. About two spaces forward, laid a narrow staircase which led to the upstairs bedrooms.
At any rate, Spinnings End description in my head is as follows:
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Away from London, lay an industrial mill town area called Spinners End. It was small but still filled with people and buildings alike. The mill stood by a river, and was noticeable, simply by its vast size. The tall, thin, chimney towered over the houses, but smoke no longer squeezed its way out, as there was no use to keep the building running.
You could smell the foul water, as you walked several streets away. Moss lay on the steep rocks in the river. As you approach the railing at the top of the bank, there is a badly patched street, which seemed to be curved and uneven. Brick houses lined up together, along the narrow street, and it was rather like the Dursley’s home in Privet Drive, where every house seemed the same. More rows were connected by alleyways, and each of these alleyways hid something. A woman, cried in the corner hidden in one alleyway, a young child screamed for her mother in another; then the dog. It laid, nothing but skin and bones, in a corner, whimpering in pain. No cars came across the dirty street. Broken light polls that never turned the colors such as green or red, stood in the crossings of the street. One in the crossroads, tilted to the side. As you walked onwards, you noticed the bare housing; how windows were boarded up, how, except for the homeless, this particular neighborhood seemed bare, perhaps even daunting. One place lay, still alive and well. It was tall, and red-bricked, much like the other buildings. A sign lay above the entrance labeling it “Fish n’ Chip”. In the window, a sign glowed, welcoming customers inside. On the opposite side, to the left, it announced that the shop offered “Cod, Chips, and Mushy Peas”.
Finally, at the end of the row, stood a small, rather old looking house. As you walked in, the rooms were noticeably small. The first room held an armchair and a sofa, both of which face a wall. About two spaces forward, laid a narrow staircase which led to the upstairs bedrooms.
