Come In, My Child. One Mustn't Lurk In Doorways.

In our minds and in our hearts, the darkness spawns, flowing over all and coating everything in eternal midnight.

Welcome to Potterslash, the Unspeakable Evil. We call it this because it is the one thing our friends will not discuss, vile thing that it may in fact be, but we find ourselves compelled, in spite of or perhaps because of this, to write it anyway. You will find here a collection of tales spun in shadows, the secret exchanges of two bowed heads topped in nighttime curls, through smirky lips and with flitting, nervous eyes.

Channelers that we are, really, it was only a matter of time before we shifted our focus to a new genre. The participants are sometimes hesitant, sometimes wholeheartedly willing, and we're doing our best to keep them as in character as possible while we fill their bodies full of hormones and snatch their clothes and inhibitions away. What you will find here, because of this, is a slowly growing anthology of humor, agony, and divine slash fiction, sharpened and polished to diamond sparkle by two hypercritical, blushing, cheshire-grinning composers, presented before you in the modest hope that what we find amusing, you will find hysterical, and what we find sensual, you will find scintillating.

If you don't love this effort as much as we do, we shan't be surprised, and you may crawl away as empty as you came.

As always, we thank you for your patronage and remind you that the best way to show appreciation is to smudge something on the wall. You needn't leave your name, we understand. It's rather like sneaking down Knockturn Alley, you never know who might see you.

Your hosts,
Tenshi and Midgar
(of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, respectively)