#holyhead harbour

[dansnaturepictures]

11th June 2023: Holyhead Fish Quay were it was a delight to be serenaded by a Sedge Warbler (this bird in the tenth picture in this set) and watch three Black Gullemots in divine evening sunlight (first two pictures in this set) and bits at the cottage we’re staying in. Other pictures in this set are of: 3, 8 and 9. Views at the fish quay with mist/cloud rolling over distant hills. 4. A gorgeous female Blackbird I got amazing intimate views of in the cottage garden this morning. 5. Geraniums in the garden. 6. Lovely view from the cottage. 7. One of many pretty roses around the cottage gardens I am enjoying seeing. 

Daisy, ragwort, red valerian, Oystercatcher a key bird this holiday so far and Sandwich Terns were other highlights at Holyhead Fish Quay. It was sensational to watch the Black Guillemots, such beautiful and well coloured birds that I adore seeing one in a nest box they have put up for them too which was great to see. A powerful few moments watching them. Also in the cottage garden wildflowers buttercup and speedwell as well as some meadow crane’s-bill were key flowers to see with crowing Rooks and Blackbird singing that I awoke to at one point early this morning, Jackdaw, Dunnocks including possibly young, House Sparrow and young Starlings seen. Strong parts of a brilliant day.

[starlingflight]

You using the tag “a new WIP just dropped” a few days ago is making me daily check ao3 just incase. Is it dropping soon? Put me out of my misery please.

So, in hindsight a more accurate tag may have been ‘wake up babe, a new WIP idea just dropped.’ 🫣

I’ve learnt from my past mistakes and don’t start posting until I’m at least halfway through the draft to avoid the risk of another abandoned, languishing WIP, so it’s gonna be a while before I start posting!

However, in penance, here is a snippet from chapter 1, in which Ginny is surprised to find herself not alone at the Burrow after taking a shower:

It wasn't the shock of finding someone in the house when she'd assumed herself alone that had set every one of Ginny's nerves on edge, nor was it the wand Harry had instinctively withdrawn from within his eye catching – and infuriatingly attractive – scarlet Auror robes and pointed directly at her. Ginny swallowed against the sudden dryness in her throat. She kept one hand firmly clasped around the the top of her towel, keeping it securely wrapped around her, but lifted the other beside her head in a show of contrition. When was the last time she'd found herself alone with him? Come to think of it, had she ever been alone with him? A beat of silence stretched on for what might have been eternity before Harry broke it by gruffly clearing his throat; the sound jolted Ginny from her paralysis. “What are you doing here?” She demanded, willing her voice to remain steady as she took what she hoped was a confident step into the room. Harry’s eyebrows slanted together in confusion. His eyes snapped up from their examination of her questionable state of undress to stare Ginny directly in the face. “What are you doing here?” He shot back. His tone, and the question, caused a flare of indignance in her chest. “It's my bedroom.” Predictably, Harry wasn't cowed by her shortness. “Isn't your bedroom in Holyhead, with the rest of your flat?” “It was until about forty minutes ago.” Any hope Ginny might have harboured that her inner turmoil at this sudden -- and humiliating -- change in her circumstances wasn't visible on her face was quickly dashed by the way Harry's frown deepened as he studied her expression. “What happened forty minutes ago?” “I moved home.” It was the first time she'd said it aloud since making the decision to do so earlier that day. Her stomach twisted uncomfortably upon hearing the words from her own lips, ringing with a finality akin to a death knell throughout her small childhood bedroom. Harry, however, seemed oblivious to her emotional distress; he was still frowning, though he'd at least lowered his wand and was now tapping it against his thigh in agitation. “No one told me you were coming back.” “Sorry,” Ginny said, her tone holding no real hint of apology as her eyes wandered disobediently over the scarlet robes stretched across the broad expanse of his chest. “I didn't realise my living arrangements were under your jurisdiction, Auror Potter.” “I didn't mean it like that,” Harry said quickly; it was hard to know whether the red flush spreading across his cheeks was due to Ginny's admonishment or the fact that his eyes were doing some wandering of their own, dragging slowly over the scant covering of her towel, passing the hem and sliding down her bare thighs with an intensity Ginny could practically feel on her exposed skin. “I just figured someone would've mentioned you were coming home.” “They might have, if I'd mentioned it to any of them,” Ginny admitted, the words spilling thoughtlessly off her tongue while her brain fought to continue functioning under the weight of Harry's stare. “I didn't tell anyone – it was something of a last minute decision.”

[scotianostra]

September 2nd 1834 saw the death of Sir Thomas Telford, the pioneering engineer, road, bridge and canal builder.

Telford was the Scotsman who laid the foundations of industrial Britain, the Colossus of Roads, the godfather of civil engineering, Thomas Telford even had a town named after him, albeit an English one!

Born at Glendinning, Westerkirk, Dumfriesshire, on 9 August 1757, Thomas Telford never knew his shepherd father. He dies four months after the boy is born. His single mother can’t afford to raise him so relatives do. But such is Thomas’s vitality that he’s soon known as ‘Laughing Tam’.

Thomas leaves school and aged 14, he apprentices to a stonemason. He helps build new roads and a farmhouse on the estate of a local duke. Despite the nature of his day job, with its intensive long hours, Thomas studies at night to learn all there is about construction. By 25, he’s worked in Edinburgh and is off to London. He meets with two Scottish architects, one of whom, Sir William Chambers is building Somerset House. Telford secures work there.

And so began his long career seeing him build everything from canals to bridges, roads to harbours, Thomas Telford – the first President of the Institution of Civil Engineers – worked or advised on hundreds of important civil engineering projects in his lifetime .His expertise was so renowned that people from all over the world – including the Swedish and Russian governments – consulted him for their major civil engineering projects.

Telford’s most famous canal works include the 60-mile Caledonian Canal (1804-1822) and Ellesmere Canal.

In the Highlands of Scotland, Telford was responsible or about 1,200 miles of new or improved roads.

His main achievements in road-making were the London to Holyhead and Bangor to Chester roads. The road in North Wales has been designated a ‘Historic Route’.

Bridges also played a large part in Telford’s career, with the Menai wrought iron suspension bridge over the Menai Straits in Wales being one of his most famous designs.With an unprecedented span of nearly 580ft, it was considered the most outstanding bridge development of the early 19th century.

In 1783, he first started working for William Pulteney, the first Earl of Bath and MP for Shrewsbury, restoring Sudborough Rectory in Northamptonshire.

Pulteney was a strong influence on Telford’s career, and helped establish him as an engineer.

Telford worked on a number of infrastructure projects in Shropshire after being invited there by Pulteney to restore Shrewsbury Castle in 1786.

He worked on local church restorations, private houses, improved streets and drainage.

After he restored the castle in a Gothic style, Telford lived in and practised as an architect from the castle.

When Pulteney became director of British Fisheries Society in 1790, Telford advised on the improvement of numerous harbours in northern Scotland. The largest was Pulteneytown at Wick.

He also helped spread the use of Roman cement in facing, pointing and brick-jointing mortars to stop water penetration.

The aluminous hydraulic cement, patented by James Parker, set to a “very considerable extent” in about 20 minutes.

Telford’s civil engineering career started to take off from 1793 when he was appointed as general agent, surveyor, engineer, architect and overlooker to the Ellesmere Canal. The standout structure on the canal is the Pontcysyllte cast iron aqueduct over the Dee.

In terms of road construction, Telford’s roads were well-drained and had a hand-pitched stone foundation under a layer of conventional road metal.

Although they were more expensive to build, their higher quality meant that maintenance costs were lower.

Telford planned, built or advised on several thousand masonry bridges throughout his lifetime.

His first major bridge was over the Severn at Montford from 1790 to 1792, using convict labour.

Other infrastructure Telford worked on included drainage of the Fens in eastern England, the improvement of more than 100 harbours, docks or piers, and water supply schemes such as a piped supply to Liverpool from springs at Bootle.

Telford was invited by the King of Sweden to be the consulting engineer for the Trollhatte Canal’s eastwards extension to the Baltic at Soderkoping.

He was also consulted by the Russian government, and North American canal schemes.

For his achievements in civil engineering, Telford has been dubbed the ‘Colossus of Roads’ and ‘Pontifex Maximus’.

A liver problem, referred to as a “bilious derangement”, caused his death on this day 1834. He was buried in Westminster Abbey.

[neverenoughmarauders]

Ch 64: Quidditch

Lily is at the Quidditch match between the Holyhead Harpies and Kenmare Kestrels with her friends Mary Macdonald, Maeve Ryan and Maeve's family. She can't believe she gets to meet the captain of the Holyhead Harpies, that is until James Potter shows up.

Lily felt as though she needed at least two extra pairs of eyes to take in everything around her. She could hardly believe she was there, at the Quidditch match between the Holyhead Harpies and the Kenmare Kestrels.  Wizards and witches filled the area, more than she had ever seen in her life - even in Diagon Alley. As almost everyone was dressed in green robes, Lily felt like she was walking in a forest on a particularly breezy day. In amongst the green crowd, Lily could spot saleswizards and witches, carrying trays full of merchandise. Amongst the items, Lily couldn't help but notice the stack of harps similar to the one Ciara had brought with her. 'It's not going to be easy to tell the fans apart,' Mary observed. 'Ah, sure but y'know they're Kestrels fans if they've brought their harp,' Ciara grinned. Maeve rolled her eyes.  'What was that, M?' 'Nothin'.' 'Traitor.' So the two sisters were at it again, Lily thought. 'Martha's family,' said Maeve, crossing her arms, 'and she plays for the Harpies.'  'Aye, and when's the last time ya even saw her, I wonder? Not since you were three. Hardly a reason to support a team. Anyways she's out now,' Ciara shot back. 'Where I live shouldn't decide who I support either.' It wasn't the first time Maeve had made this point. 'The Harpies have far more fans across all of Britain and Ireland. Why? Because they're better.' As a Harpies fan herself, Lily agreed, but she stayed out of the argument. Firstly, she didn't care all that much about any of this, and secondly, both sisters really seemed to enjoy the discussion - any discussion really. Petunia would have hated staying with the Ryans, but Lily enjoyed the passion the Ryans seemed to harbour.  'It's because they're an all-lass team,' Declan offered. 'I don't see many blokes supportin' them.' 'And what in Morgana's name d'you think I am?' Maeve snapped. Declan gave Maeve a puzzled look, before a grin broke out across his handsome face: 'Hardly.' 'Why does everyone keep sayin' that,' Maeve complained, throwing up her hands. 'Ah sure now,' said Declan, squeezing his sister's shoulder. 'You know I'm just havin' a laugh.' 'Hilarious,' Maeve scowled, shoving her brother away. 'Don't be like that,' said Ciara to her sister, her smile gone. 'It's just good fun.' 'She knows that,' said Declan quickly, giving Ciara a warning glance. 'Listen, you're in luck, M. I know the captain of the Harpies a wee bit. Fancy meetin' her?' 

Read the rest on AO3

[splendidissimus]

August 2000 - He's Not Home

((Content warning: anxiety, heart condition))

((Promptspiration: @whumptober 2023: day 7: I paced around for hours on empty; I jumped at the slightest of sounds. / Radio silence ))

Genre: hurt / comfort

Romance level: major

Angst level: 3/5

Draco's headspace: anxious

((words: ~1300))

------------------------------------

Draco couldn't settle down. He prowled anxiously through the ground floor of Theo's house, stifled in the same four narrow rooms, trying not to think and unable to stop it. 

He knew where Theo was. His alchemy mentor had sent him to look at an old wizard tomb in the Hogsmeade area, an expedition that would keep him overnight and probably to the next afternoon. Theo called it 'chores' and the 'main perk of having an apprentice'. It was meant to be tedious, boring, exhausting, and dirty work.

But a couple hours after Theo'd gone, a thought wormed its way into Draco's mind: that it was dangerous. He knew the thought was irrational, but he couldn't drive it away, and it sank its claws deeper and deeper into his mind.

He tried to ignore it, distracting himself with trying to figure out how to make a sandwich, but he could even eat what he put together at the end because his stomach was too tight, and trying to read only left him looking at the same sentence over and over, and music on the wireless just put noise behind his thoughts. 

He tried to logic himself out of it — old wizard tombs were secured with basic locks or puzzles, not with deadly traps. He had a room at the Three Broomsticks. It wasn't like Hogsmeade Valley was crawling with bands of Dark wizards or dangerous magical beasts, and even if it were, Theo was capable of defending himself. And he was near enough people to send up sparks for help if he weren't. He was fully safe, there wasn't any danger… 

But it didn't help, because his mind only responded with but what if. What if an unstable ceiling caved in? What if the tomb was harbouring acromantulas? What if there were unsavoury types interested in the same tomb for some reason? What if he fell down and broke his leg? What if he fell down and broke his wand?

What if he was alone and…

He should go back to his own flat, but he couldn't bring himself to. For some reason, the thought of Theo's house standing empty was unbearable. 

He could feel his heart responding to the constant quiet fear, trying to beat harder, faster. He focused on Occlumency techniques to try to control his emotions and his heart. Unfortunately, fear was the one emotion he had never been able to control except by burying it into nothingness, and he didn't want to get trapped in that dark numbness ever again if he could help it. 

Finally, he defied his heart and, leaving all the lamps lit behind him, forced his way up the three flights of steep, unsteady stairs that made Theo's house a death trap for him, up to Theo's room at the very top of the house. The cramped attic space, lined with trunks and overfilled bookcases, offered little in the way of comfort except the sagging bed at the far end. Draco took a seat on it under the creased Holyhead Harpies poster, winced at the screeching of springs, and tried to catch his breath.

The room smelled of Theo. That did help calm his heart, although probably not enough to offset the climbing of the stairs, in all honesty. Still. He closed his eyes and recited his mantra, that Theo was okay, he would be home tomorrow, and nothing was wrong…

But what if it was? It could be. He had no way of knowing. He was just lying to himself.

There was a way to check. Maybe. He had the Owlless in his pocket, the special sheet of parchment and enchanted quill that he and Theo could use to write back and forth instantly. They hadn't used it in a long time, but…

He laid it out on the table beside the bed. The last conversation in it was months old, Theo wishing him a happy birthday and his lack of response. He read over it a few times, restless eyes returning to the top every time he finished it. Repeating to himself that Theo was okay.

Finally, he wrote 'Please write back.' on the bottom of the page. And then waited. 

He stared at the page forever, telling himself he wasn't worried and there was nothing to worry about and he hadn't expected an answer anyway and Theo probably didn't even have it with him and he could quite possibly be asleep right now and there was nothing to worry about… A cycle of the same thoughts chased themselves endlessly through his head, an ouroboros of anxiety. The cold tightness of his stomach and the painful fluttering of his heart didn't believe the words his mind tried to insist upon.

His heart was too fast. He didn't even have to turn on the monitor to acknowledge that. It was too fast and it wasn't calming down, because how could it? He needed to take something for it.

He didn't want to sleep, though. Except he did. The sooner he went to sleep, the sooner Theo would be back and he'd prove to himself that everything was all right and this was pure foolishness. Or he could stay up just a little longer and see if Theo wrote back. It could be any moment. But no, he probably wasn't going to, and anyway, if he went to sleep, then it would be morning soon and he would have Theo's answer on the Owlless waiting for him. 

He sat and watched the Owlless. 

It did nothing.

His heart gave an obvious, irregular thump, and he winced and held his chest. He had to. He unshrank the potion bag from his pocket and found the sedative meant for this, took a last look at the unresponsive Owlless, and swallowed it all. 

The effect was quick and irresistable: his pulse gradually slowed, and exhaustion and achey muscles gave way to calm tired feelings. He tried to resist it, but soon he curled up on Theo's bed, surrounded in the reassuring scent of him. 

—

Draco woke before dawn from unremembered nightmares that left him wiping tear-tracks off his cheeks and dread heavy in his stomach. The first thing he did, when he realised where he was, was check the Owlless, and he found that Theo had not written.

He told himself he had expected it. He also stayed there looking at it for a long time.

Around noon, he planted himself in the sitting room where the floo was, pretending he was listening to the wireless, or that he wasn't just marking every second of 'afternoon' where Theo didn't show up. If he wasn't back by the time he was normally off work…

A few hours later, the floo flared to green life, and he was on his feet. Theo came through, dusting off his sleeves, and Draco immediately grabbed him, hugging him tightly, holding the back of his head, fingers twining through his hair. "I know it's stupid," he said into his shoulder, preemptively. "Just…"

Theo's hands were startled wide for a second, showing he hadn't even realised he was there, then rested on his hips. "Hey. Everything okay?"

"Yes." Now it was.

—

After a few minutes, Theo made his way upstairs to change into clean clothes. He wasn't expecting the state of the room. He could read Draco's night in what he left there — the wrinkled bed, the empty emergency sedative, the abandoned Owlless with its single plaintive sentence… 

He didn't even waste the time to change. He went back downstairs and wrapped his arms tight around Draco, holding him silently and not letting him go.

[theenchantedecho]

A Magical Standoff: The Unexpected Rivalry Between Celestina Warbeck and Rolanda Hooch

Gather 'round, dear readers, for a tale of rivalry that will leave you wondering if you've been hit with a Confundus Charm! Celestina Warbeck, the Singing Sorceress, and Rolanda Hooch, Quidditch Queen turned Hogwarts Flying Instructor, have found themselves in a magical standoff. But what's the real story behind this unlikely feud, and how did it all begin?

A Clash of Magical Talents

 Although Celestina and Rolanda's time at Hogwarts didn't overlap, their paths crossed in a most unexpected way. A well-connected source in the wizarding world, who we'll call "Gossiping Gideon," spilled the beans on this intriguing rivalry: "Celestina and Rolanda first met during a charity event for St. Mungo's Hospital. Celestina was belting out her enchanting tunes, while Rolanda put on a thrilling Quidditch demonstration. The crowd was absolutely captivated by both performances, and that's when the rivalry began to brew."

Secret Talents and Hidden Desires

One fascinating aspect of this magical rivalry is the secret talents and hidden desires of these accomplished witches. "Curious Calliope," a close acquaintance of both Celestina and Rolanda, shared a few tantalising tidbits: "Did you know that Celestina has always harboured a secret passion for Quidditch? She's quite the skilled broomstick rider and even considered trying out for the Holyhead Harpies. On the other hand, Rolanda has a beautiful singing voice and was known to perform at Hogwarts' school-wide gatherings in her youth. It's as if they both envy what the other has."

A Spirited Standoff at the Gala

Our story takes a fascinating turn at a recent magical gala, where the two talented witches found themselves at odds over who would take the stage for the grand finale. "Eavesdropping Edwin" provided a firsthand account of the disagreement: "Celestina and Rolanda were debating who would dazzle the audience more during the event's closing act. Celestina insisted her voice would raise more Galleons, while Rolanda argued her high-flying Quidditch stunts would leave the crowd spellbound. It was like watching a magical showdown!"

A Soaring Spectacle or an Enchanting Duet? 

The wizarding world is abuzz with speculation about the outcome of this magical standoff. "Dreaming Daphne," a renowned magical events planner, shared her vision for a grand finale: "Imagine a performance where Celestina's enchanting voice soars alongside Rolanda's gravity-defying Quidditch stunts. It would be a breathtaking spectacle that would captivate audiences and raise mountains of Galleons for a good cause."

Who will emerge as the true magical icon, the Singing Sorceress or the Quidditch Queen? "Wise Wilma," an esteemed magical historian, offered her insight: "Celestina and Rolanda have made incredible contributions to the wizarding world, each in their own unique way. It's a shame that their rivalry has overshadowed their achievements. I hope they can eventually put their differences aside and collaborate for the greater good."

A Wizarding World Wonder or a Tale of Two Talents? 

As always, dear readers, remember that not everything can be fully confirmed. Are these tales of rivalry between Celestina Warbeck and Rolanda Hooch entirely accurate, or merely the product of overactive imaginations? We may never know for certain, but one thing is clear: the magical community will be watching with bated breath as this enchanting saga unfolds.

We invite you to join us as we speculate, wonder, and marvel at the potential collaborations between these two extraordinary witches. Will they ultimately join forces to create a spellbinding performance that will leave the wizarding world in awe, or will they continue to compete for the spotlight?

An Open Call for Submissions and Sightings 

We encourage you to submit your own stories, rumours, and sightings about this magical rivalry or other enchanting events in the British wizarding society. Your tale might just be the next big headline in "The Enchanted Echo"!

Until then, we'll be keeping our Extendable Ears tuned in and our Quick-Quotes Quills at the ready, eager to bring you the latest news and gossip about this captivating story. Will Celestina Warbeck and Rolanda Hooch find a way to share the spotlight, or will their rivalry grow even more intense? The wizarding world is simply brimming with anticipation!

Remember, dear readers, to keep a keen eye and a light heart as we explore the magical world around us. Be it a soaring spectacle or an enchanting duet, we're here to celebrate the achievements, talents, and contributions of individuals in our beloved British wizarding society. So, let's raise our wands to the possibilities and enjoy the show!

@chasingharpy

[ginnyw-potter-archive]

A Perfect Valentine

Written for day 12 of @hinnyfest

Prompt: Valentine's Day

In this case they started dating during the christmas holidays, which I actually wrote for Prompt 18! I will link back to that one when I post it

Harry felt bad about leaving Hermione all by herself for the Hogsmeade weekend on Valentine’s Day but it was Hermione herself that had insisted with Harry to just take Ginny and have a good day. 

“Where are we going?” Ginny asked happily when they stepped out of the castle and into the chilly February weather. 

“Well, I have given it much thought and I decided we should go to Madam Puddifoot’s.” 

Harry watched for her reaction, he assumed she hated the spot nearly as much as he did. Nevertheless she tried her hardest to not look so disappointed. It was entirely endearing and Harry had to resist pulling her into a hug. 

He laughed. “Gin, I am joking. I hate that place, it reminds me of-” 

“Umbdridge’s office,” they said in unison. Their eyes locked and they smiled. 

“No,” Harry spoke. “I thought we could go to Spintwitches first, then Honeydukes, have a little walk and then the Three Broomsticks.” He listed off the three spots he had selected. They both loved Qudditch so Spintwitches seemed an obvious spot. Honeydukes was a necessary stop to stock up on candy and the walk was just so they could spend some alone time. 

“That sounds perfect,” Ginny said, taking his hand in hers. Their fingers entangled as they always did and they walked down the path towards Hogsmeade together. 

Spintwitches Sporting Needs was nearly empty today, it seemed many students didn’t consider it romantic enough for Valentine’s Day but to Harry it beat Puddifoot’s by a mile. They looked around the shop. The shop smelled a mix of leather and wood and with Ginny nearby, it came pretty close to what he had smelled in Amortentia at the start of the year. 

 Harry was admiring one of the brooms when he noticed Ginny had walked off. He found her standing in front of a poster of the Holyhead Harpies team, signed by Gwenog Jones. 

“I think you’d make an excellent Harpy,” Harry told her, aware she was harbouring secret ambitions to become a professional player and he knew the Holyhead Harpies were her favourite team. 

“Really?” Ginny asked him eagerly, her eyes lighting up as she turned to look at him. 

“Well, you’re the best player on the Gryffindor team by far - Don’t tell the others I said that,” Harry added, but he did mean it. 

“I think they know you’re biased, Harry,” she replied, looking at the poster once again. 

“Except I am not. You could go professional, easily.” 

“Rumour has it one of their Chasers is retiring in a year or two,” the shopkeeper said from the till.  “A lot of the professional players used to come here in their Hogwarts days, they like to give me the inside scoop.” 

Harry bumped her elbow against her arm. “See, in two years you’ll be graduating and you can become a Chaser with them. It’s a sign.”

“What’s your name?” the shopkeeper asked. 

They turned around towards the shopkeeper. 

“Ginny Weasley,” she said softly. 

“Well, Ginny Weasley, I am rooting for you. If you do make professional, do feel free to come by again. I’ll happily have you sign a poster.” 

Ginny smiled eagerly.

The shopkeeper recounted a few occasions when Quidditch stars had come by, they both listened eagerly.

“Then you could be on little girls’ walls. I’d also get a poster,” Harry said as they walked back onto the street.  

Ginny took his hand again. “Why have a poster when the real thing is around?” she said with a grin.

He smiled back fondly, the prospect sounded wonderful. “Fair point.” 

“It surprises me they don’t make posters of you yet… with all the Chosen One business,” Ginny commented.  

Harry halted, appalled by the thought. “I mean for one I would never pose for a picture.” 

“Yes, but I mean like illustrations like they used to do.” 

“They used to do what now?” Harry asked. 

“Illustrations, you know because no one had seen a picture of you,” Ginny explained as if it was obvious. 

“Why did no one tell me this?!” Harry let out in pure shock. 

“I thought you knew! It’s a popular nighttime story.” 

“That is awful… that’s not a story you tell to kids! An evil man tried to kill a baby. Both his mommy and daddy died and now we haven’t seen the kid for years but we’re sure he is still alive somewhere! Sweet dreams!” He looked at her exasperated. 

Ginny glared at him. “My mom told it better than that.” Then she suddenly blushed as she realised what she admitted to. 

“Did you have illustrations of me?” Harry asked, suddenly realising that would make total sense. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Ginny huffed but she looked at him playfully from the corner of her eye. 

“Fine, I’ll ask Ron later.” He did not really intend on doing that, but the possibility would be enough to make Ginny give in. 

“Alright, there were some but they weren’t mine. They weren’t like … up in my room or something. I am not crazy.” 

Harry pulled Ginny flush against him. “I am just playing, you know that right. You’re cute when you’re flustered.” 

“I could kill you in your sleep, I just don’t want to give Voldemort the satisfaction.” 

Harry laughed and kissed her cheek. “I know.” 

“Honeydukes?” Ginny asked. 

Harry nodded and pulled her along. They bought an array of candy and then found a quiet spot towards the Shrieking Shack 

Ginny fiddled with the packaging of the candy. “Come closer. I want to see something.” 

Harry obliged. Ginny popped a Pepper Imp into her mouth and then promptly connected her lips with Harry’s. It was a strange sensation as he felt the effects of the treat reach his tongue and then he felt the smoke come through his ears. 

Harry laughed as Ginny leaned away. He licked his lips. “You know you can give me a warning before you try something like that.” 

Ginny shrugged. “I was curious. Be glad I haven’t tried that with Exploding Bonbons, I am sure you can lose some teeth like that.” 

Harry took the Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. “Okay. New game. Either of us eat one. We always pretend it is a good flavour. If the other kisses you and it is bad, then you win.” 

“I am pretty sure I can read your face well enough so I hope you’re ready to lose.” 

He took a Bean and popped it into his mouth. “Ah. I believe this is uhm- the flower blossom one?” 

Ginny squinted her eyes as she observed him. “Alright, I believe you.” She kissed him for a second but then she promptly disconnected from him, spitting out the bean. “That is earthworm! How were you keeping a straight face?” 

Harry shrugged. “I’ve had worse to eat at the Dursleys. Your turn.” He offered her the box. 

She bit into it, seeming to think about it hard. “It’s one of your favourite flavours.” 

“I don’t believe you,” he said. 

“Guess you’ll have to find out.” 

Harry kissed her softly and was met with the flavour of Brussels Sprouts. It beat Earthworm but it wasn’t great. “So I was right,” he said. 

“Unfortunately, yes.” 

Harry took another bean. “I’d have to guess cherry.” 

Ginny leaned in and kissed him. She leaned in further when she was indeed met with a delicious cherry flavour. She crawled into his lap and kissed him deeper, her arms around his shoulders to hold him close. Harry set down the box of Beans in favour of wrapping his arms around Ginny instead. 

When they parted, the Bean was long gone. Ginny’s hands were in his hair. “Cherry it is.” 

“I think you’ve lost the game,” Harry responded, his hands shifting to her sides. 

Ginny picked up the box. “I think we should do a rematch later, I am determined to win. We should head to the Three Broomsticks if we want to go there before we have to head back.” 

“I don’t know, this is nice too,” Harry said. He much preferred Ginny wrapped around him. 

“Yes, but if people ask what I did the whole time, I should have something to reply and if no one saw us at the Broomsticks, it’s not going to be very believable,” she replied with a smile. 

Harry chuckled. “Alright, fair enough.” 

After they warmed up with a hot Butterbeer, they made their way back to the castle. 

Ginny stopped Harry and pulled him aside from the path. “This has been the most perfect Valentine’s Day,” she said. 

“I am glad, I want you to have a perfect Valentine,” he told her. He knew eventually they’d run out of time, the two of them, it was too good to be true and so he wanted her to have as many perfect days as he could fit in. He wanted to see her smile, the way her eyes lit up whenever she spotted him never failed to make his heart skip a beat. He wanted to hold her close so she could relax into his touch and chill without much care. He’d take every second with her. 

“Hey,” Ginny said carefully, touching a hand to his chest. “You’re going to figure out the Chosen One business, it will be alright.” 

As usual, she had sensed the shift in his mood and judged correctly. Harry put on a smile. “Sure.” 

Ginny pulled him down by the collar of his coat and kissed him. “Did you have a good Valentine’s Day?” she asked softly. 

“The best, because it was with you,” he told her honestly, watching the blush creep up her cheeks. He wished he could make her react like that forever, but the present would have to do.

[withthegrainphoto]

Diya & Joel Wonderful to meet these cool Manchester-based Irish visitors to Holyhead, enjoying the last part of their weekend away in the area. A great success by all accounts as they enjoyed the view of the harbour and the breakwater beyond. #documentaryphotography #documentingbritain #documentingwales #cymru #brexit #lekkerzine #filmphotography #urban #believeinfilm #back2thebase #myfeatureshoot #fdicct #millennium_images #onbooooooom #rentalmag #subjectivelyobjective #hasselblad500cm #fujipro400h #cymru #revolvcollective #anglesey #loupemagazine #back2thebase #urban #coastal #believeinfilm #filmphotographyproject #portrait #portraitphotography #portrait_vision https://www.instagram.com/p/Cl-8AI7owMU/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[ramzoozi]

“The entire coast of Anglesey is studded with islets. The most important, after Holyhead, are those of the north east, called the Skerries. Upon the largest of these is a lighthouse, which, with that of the South Stack, guides the packets to Holyhead Harbour, and warns the mariner of the dangers of the coast.” - The Land We Live In 📚 A Pictorial And Literary Sketchbook Of The British Empire 🗺 , by Charles Knight 1850 👑 #Itsamazingoutthere #amazingphotohunter #britain #uk_greatshots #yourbritain #yourcoasts #wales #photosofbritain #visitbritain #gloriousbritain #unitedkingdom #seaside #yourwales #brilliantbritain #topukphoto #ig_uk #ig_britain #goexplore #lovegreatbritain #igersuk #instabritain #unlimitedwales #capturingbritain #visitwales #lighthouse #discoverwales #igwales #hiking #wales #littlepiecesofbritain #ukpotd @photosofbritain @earthofficial @earth.landscape @gloriousbritain @_igeuropa @planet_locations @placesinuk @allbeauty_addiction @living_europeofficial @living_destinations @scenicbritain @passionpassport @earthofficial @map_of_unitedkingdom @thewalescollective (at South Stack Lighthouse) https://www.instagram.com/p/CCWz0EuDqfJ/?igshid=6b3g1zkp1eml

[houseofswords]

Welcome to Holyhead!

THE HEART OF MINING IN CLLALAM COUNTY

DISCOVER OUR HISTORY

Iron might not be what comes to mind when thinking of Washington, but the hills surrounding Holyhead conceal a special secret. The rugged coastline where the port now stands was at first passed over for safer harbours, until prospectors struck upon a remarkable discovery; iron ore, the purest deposits on the west coast of America!

Renowned explorer Sir Arthur Rambley is the man credited with founding the outpost that became the town we know today. The port officially opened in 1871 with the launching of his new flagship, the Waymarker. Most of the iron produced went to colonisation efforts on the west coast until the expansion of Washington’s railroad network in the 1880′s allowed for easier trade inland. To this day, many examples of now rare and highly collectible Holyhead iron appear in Oregon and California.

Holyhead iron has unique properties. Stronger and more durable than iron mined elsewhere and resistant to rust, it is these qualities that allowed its iron industry to outlast competitors elsewhere in Washington. Mining ran from 1872 to 1929, enjoyed a brief resurgence to supply the war effort in 1940, and lasted until the final blast furnace closed in 1947. While no mine operates beyond a tourist scale today, iron sand dredged from all over the coast is still smelted here, much of which is processed into steel in the refineries based in the port.

The Holyhead Historical Trust maintains a collection of historical photographs, books and artifacts. The museum is open Monday to Saturday, from nine until six. For further information, leave an inquiry at the service desk or request access to their private collection. Newspaper archives are also available at the James Stogeson Memorial Library.

THERE’S SOMETHING FOR EVERYONE

EXPERIENCE OUR UNIQUE CULTURE

See a real mine in action! Slipdrop Mine still operates on a limited scale to this day, featuring much of its original machinery. Take a ride on the carts, experience a guided tour, or learn a new skill in an ironworking class. Spaces are limited, so book now to reserve your place.

But mining isn’t all that Holyhead has to offer! Many of the original buildings still stand today, maintained by the Historical Trust and the Arthur Rambley Maritime Guild. Sir Rambley’s winter home is open to the public as a museum of his personal life. The original Waymarker is kept moored in the old docks and now hosts a four star gourmet restaurant, featuring Holyhead’s famous sea cuisine.

In the heart of Old Town is a bustling arts district, featuring a number of historic theatres, galleries and cinemas. Of particular note is the Crucible Theatre, where ghostly tales are brought to life through song and dance, accompanied by a colourful cast of animatronic characters. A fantastic spectacle for the whole family! For handmade goods and arts and crafts, consider a visit to the weekday market on Market Square, or any one of the independent galleries run by local artists.

And why not time your visit for the Burning of the King? Every fall equinox, a wicker effigy is burned in the square and attendees take turns to pour a dash of beer on the flames. This famous festival is believed to have its origins as an insult to King George, and is a celebration of the arts, of freedom—and of local craft beer.

AN ANCIENT LANDSCAPE WAITING TO BE DISCOVERED

LOSE YOURSELF IN THE SCENERY

Holy Peak is known by a range of epithets, including the Iron Crown, Liar’s Leap and the Devil’s Spear, but none are as dramatic as the silhouette the great black rock imposes on the landscape. According to legend, the peak is all that remains of an enormous meteorite strike from many millennia ago, and there is some evidence to support this. Hidden within the hill’s hollows and passageways are pockets of native iron, which is rarely found on earth outside of meteorites.

Holy Peak Mine, the most famous of Holyhead’s mines, is no longer in operation, as Holy Peak itself is listed as a place of historic significance and there are concerns that excavating the iron could damage its structural integrity. There are tours available for the mine, as well as excursions into some of the hill’s passageways for caving enthusiasts. Of particular note is the ‘chapel’, a cave famous for its column formations which resemble those of a church, and is accessible only by sea at high tide, or through the passages.

For your safety, stay with your guide at all times and do not enter unauthorised areas. Many of the caves and mining pits are extremely deep and the platforms, railings and stairways outside of those maintained by Holy Peak Tours Inc. are in a dangerous state of disrepair. Injuries or fatal falls sustained in the mine from a failure to observe safety rules are not the responsibility of Holy Peak Tours Inc.

For further information and for details on upcoming events, the visitor’s centre on Rambley Quay is open from nine until five every day.

Holyhead; experience a living story. We hope you enjoy your stay!

—It’ll be forever

[dansnaturepictures]

On St. David's Day, looking back on some special memories from our fantastic week in North Wales last year; sheep's-bit at Cemlyn, Common Sandpiper at Llyn Ogwen, Arctic Terns at Cemlyn, Black Guillemot at Holyhead Harbour Fish Quay, RSPB Valley Wetlands, Red Squirrel at Newborough Forest, view at Nant-y-Pandy, the Range, South Stack, bee orchid at RSPB Conwy and Silver-studded Blue at the Range.

[pharology101]

LOTD: Holyhead Mail Pier

(from: http://www.ibiblio.org/lighthouse/cym.htm)

Holyhead (Caergybi) Mail Pier (Admiralty Pier, Salt Island) (3)

1821 (John Rennie). Inactive for many years. 15 m (49 ft) round old-style stone tower with lantern and gallery. The Lighthouse Digest photo by John Mobbs shows two signal lights, one above the other, on a mast mounted on the gallery, but in a September 2005 email James Doutch reported that these lights have been removed. Dave Leaton has a photo, Stephen Elwyn Roddick has a photo, C.W. Bash has a photo taken from the harbor, and Google has a satellite view and a street view across the harbor. This is one of a pair of lighthouses designed by John Rennie to guide packet boats sailing beween Holyhead and Howth Harbour, near Dublin (see Eastern Ireland for the twin lighthouse). This historic lighthouse, one of the oldest in Wales does not get the attention it deserves. It is believed that there were two earlier lights at this location, but details of the history are not available. Located at the end of the pier at Salt Island (Ynys Halen) marking the north side of the entrance to the Old Harbour in downtown Holyhead. There's a good views from ferries between Holyhead and Dublin, Ireland. Accessible by walking the pier. Site and tower closed (restricted harbor area). Owner/site manager: Stena Line (Holyhead Harbor). ARLHS WAL-053.

(full photo found here; ©Dave Leaton)

[scotianostra]

September 2nd 1834 saw the death of Sir Thomas Telford, the pioneering engineer, road, bridge and canal builder.

Telford was the Scotsman who laid the foundations of industrial Britain, the Colossus of Roads, the godfather of civil engineering, Thomas Telford even had a town named after him, albeit an English one!

Born at Glendinning, Westerkirk,  Dumfriesshire, on 9 August 1757, Thomas Telford never knew his shepherd father. He dies four months after the boy is born. His single mother can’t afford to raise him so relatives do. But such is Thomas’s vitality that he’s soon known as ‘Laughing Tam’.

Thomas leaves school and aged 14, he apprentices to a stonemason. He helps build new roads and a farmhouse on the estate of a local duke. Despite the nature of his day job, with its intensive long hours, Thomas studies at night to learn all there is about construction. By 25, he’s worked in Edinburgh and is off to London. He meets with two Scottish architects, one of whom, Sir William Chambers is building Somerset House. Telford secures work there.

 And so began his long career seeing him build everything from canals to bridges, roads to harbours, Thomas Telford – the first President of the Institution of Civil Engineers – worked or advised on hundreds of important civil engineering projects in his lifetime .His expertise was so renowned that people from all over the world – including the Swedish and Russian governments – consulted him for their major civil engineering projects.

Telford’s most famous canal works include the 60-mile Caledonian Canal (1804-1822) and Ellesmere Canal.

In the Highlands of Scotland, Telford was responsible or about 1,200 miles of new or improved roads.

His main achievements in road-making were the London to Holyhead and Bangor to Chester roads. The road in North Wales has been designated a ‘Historic Route’.

Bridges also played a large part in Telford’s career, with the Menai wrought iron suspension bridge over the Menai Straits in Wales being one of his most famous designs.With an unprecedented span of nearly 580ft, it was considered the most outstanding bridge development of the early 19th century.

In 1783, he first started working for William Pulteney, the first Earl of Bath and MP for Shrewsbury, restoring Sudborough Rectory in Northamptonshire.

Pulteney was a strong influence on Telford’s career, and helped establish him as an engineer.

Telford worked on a number of infrastructure projects in Shropshire after being invited there by Pulteney to restore Shrewsbury Castle in 1786.

He worked on local church restorations, private houses, improved streets and drainage.

After he restored the castle in a Gothic style, Telford lived in and practised as an architect from the castle.

When Pulteney became director of British Fisheries Society in 1790, Telford advised on the improvement of numerous harbours in northern Scotland. The largest was Pulteneytown at Wick.

He also helped spread the use of Roman cement in facing, pointing and brick-jointing mortars to stop water penetration.

The aluminous hydraulic cement, patented by James Parker, set to a “very considerable extent” in about 20 minutes.

Telford’s civil engineering career started to take off from 1793 when he was appointed as general agent, surveyor, engineer, architect and overlooker to the Ellesmere Canal. The standout structure on the canal is the Pontcysyllte cast iron aqueduct over the Dee.

In terms of road construction, Telford’s roads were well-drained and had a hand-pitched stone foundation under a layer of conventional road metal.

Although they were more expensive to build, their higher quality meant that maintenance costs were lower. 

Telford planned, built or advised on several thousand masonry bridges throughout his lifetime.

His first major bridge was over the Severn at Montford from 1790 to 1792, using convict labour.

Other infrastructure Telford worked on included drainage of the Fens in eastern England, the improvement of more than 100 harbours, docks or piers, and water supply schemes such as a piped supply to Liverpool from springs at Bootle.

Telford was invited by the King of Sweden to be the consulting engineer for the Trollhatte Canal’s eastwards extension to the Baltic at Soderkoping.

He was also consulted by the Russian government, and North American canal schemes.

For his achievements in civil engineering, Telford has been dubbed the ‘Colossus of Roads’ and ‘Pontifex Maximus’.

A liver problem, referred to as a “bilious derangement”, caused his death on this day 1834. He was buried in Westminster Abbey.

[wahsnad]

Ferries making their way into Holyhead harbour #ferries #holyhead #sea #seaside #beach #dunes #sanddunes #Coast #coastal #anglesey #angleseycoastalpath #cove #outdoor #outdoorlife #outdoors #walking #hiking #hikingadventures #naturephoto #naturephotography #naturephotographer #naturephotograph #ignature #instanature #landscapes #landscapephoto #landscapephotography https://instagr.am/p/CSXfGHkj8ss/

[houseofswords-archived]

A Chance Encounter

open | non-mutuals please DM first

It was a beautiful day for a walk on the waterfront. The air was crisp, the sky was clear. People were out on their yachts, racing one another in the harbour. Perhaps not the wisest of pastimes when they shared the water with cargo ships twenty times their size, but the inevitable near-misses might be fun to watch from the seawall. At least, that’s what Ash said to get Jaime away from his work and out in the sun for once—because if there was one person who’d delight in the chaos of a multi-boat pileup, it was him. 

Unfortunately, it just meant that he brought his work with him.

“Okay, chapter nine, scene four.” Jaime set pen to paper. But even with his eyes fixed on his pocket notebook, he dodged around every last pothole and loose cobble he came across as easily as if he had a second pair of eyes. Maybe he did. The longer Ash lived in Holyhead, the less it took him by surprise. “The wendigo grabs me by my legs, and starts dragging me away into the forest...”

Ash hopped up onto the seawall and continued along it, arms out as if on a tightrope, though the concrete was a good two feet thick. The tide was out; waves tumbled onto the stones below him where once they would have met the wall, and here and there his eyes picked out the glitter of broken glass. His nose wrinkled—people should pick up their litter. “What if it grabs you by the hair,” he offered as the sparrows accompanying him decided that they weren’t fond of this precarious vantage point and fluttered down onto the safety of the cobbles. Only Samwise remained, nestled in his hood.

“Oh. My. God.” Jaime immediately scribbled this down, tongue between his teeth. “That’s, like, terrifying.”

Ash took a bow. “Thank you, thank you, I’m here forever.” But he bowed too deeply, and unbalanced himself on the wall. He caught himself just in the nick of time, with most of his dignity intact, by grabbing onto a nearby lamp post. Except that wasn’t a lamp post, he realised. It was a person.

“O—oh!” He yanked his hands away at once, sheepish. “I’m sorry!”

[stuartmoss]

An #aerial shot of #Holyhead, #Wales with the #Harbour clearly visible. #Photo taken from the right side of a #Ryanair #flight from Dublin, en-route to Leeds. #landscape #IgersHolyhead #VisitHolyhead #DiscoverHolyhead #Wales #IgersWales #VisitWales #DiscoverWales #Welsh #travel #tourism #tourist #leisure #life #coast #earth #sea #maritime #flying #holiday (at Holyhead)