The Return of the Weekly Drabble Challenge! Results! [Archive]

helgaandgodric

09-23-2006, 15:44

Name: helgaandgodric
House: Ravenclaw
Title: How do they feel?
Words: 307
Warnings: None

“You’re messy, a pig, and can’t do your own homework!” Hermione yelled from one end of the Common Room.

Maroon in the face, Ron yelled back from the other side, “Oh yeah? Well you are a stuck-up, study-scheduled-freaky know-it-all!”

Harry and Ginny sat on a couch that they had positioned in the middle of the two of them. They refused to take sides, as this was a weekly event. However, this time it seemed more serious than normal. They had already been arguing for fifteen minutes, and showed no signs of shopping. Tears filled Hermione’s eyes, and seemed ready to fall at any minute.

“Your inability to do your own work is going to make you fail at life and be miserable and won’t be able to provide for your gazillion kids! They’ll all hate you! And when we have reunions, my husband, my seven perfect children and I will come and laugh at you!”

“Well, I don’t see how that could happen since you’re too much of a workaholic to have a social, not to mention romantic, life and get married!”

Ginny whispered to Harry, “Oh no he didn’t!” As the tears that had filled Hermione’s eyes began to spill and fall down her cheeks, Ron seemed to lose his resolve.

He closed the space between them is 7 long strides, and tilted her face towards him. Wiping away the tears with his thumb, he spoke softly to her. The entire Common Room was quiet, even the fire.

“Of course,” he said, “if someone already loved you, and you already loved them, what would you need to date around for?” Everyone held their breathe, not daring to make a sound.

“I love you, Hermione,” Ron said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Smiling through her tears, she said, “I love you, too”.

And he kissed her.

Gmariam

09-24-2006, 10:20

Name: Gmariam
House: Ravenclaw
Title: Bring Him Home
Word Count: 417
Warnings: None

The castle grounds were dark and deathly quiet as a tall young man strode purposefully toward the lake. He carried a heavy bundle, and stumbled in his sorrowful haste, as he made his way toward a white marble tomb.

Gently he set down his sad burden: it was the body of his best friend. He stepped back, and the mask of grief he wore turned to sudden rage.

“He’s dead!” the young man shouted at the tomb, at the world. “He’s dead, and it’s your fault! You left us here, to fight alone, and now he’s gone. How could you leave us?”

The young man sank to his knees on the soft earth, inconsolable, and his head fell to his heaving chest. “We fought so hard,” he whispered, desperately trying to hold back hot tears. “We followed the clues, found the Horcruxes. We destroyed them all, and went after…” He paused, and chased away the wetness in his eyes with the back of his hand. “…after Voldemort. He’s gone now, vanquished forever. The world is safe.”

The young man stood up and took a deep breath. He felt the anger return. “But the only one who really mattered is gone. He’s dead! How could you leave him to die? What are we going to do now, without him?” He placed a shaking hand on the tomb as the loss finally overwhelmed him. He wasn’t furious after all: he was devastated. “What am I going to do?” he asked the silent tomb, but no one answered.

Soon a small hand found his, steady and warm. The young man looked into a face as grief-struck as his own, but also full of compassion and love.

“Come,” said Hermione quietly, her voice gentle and sad. “Let’s bring him home.”

He nodded as the tears began to finally run down his face. He couldn’t hold them back any longer. He wanted to stay, and rage at the stoic marble tomb; but he knew that deep down he wasn’t angry. The pain he felt wasn’t the pain of rage, but of grief for a life lost, a friend cruelly taken. He didn’t know how he would go on, without him.

The young man bent down, smoothed his friend’s hair one last time. He picked up the body, and was surprised at how light his burden now felt. Slowly he made his way back up to the castle with Hermione at his side.

He was bringing his friend home, for the last time.

I hope this meets the requirements of the confrontation drabble. In my mind it does, but the character being confronted is dead, so it might be stretching it a bit. ;)

mugglemathdork

09-24-2006, 21:07

Name: mugglemathdork
House: Ravenclaw
Title:Conjugal Irritations
Word Count: 457
Warnings: None

The brunette furrowed her eyebrows in contempt at the sight before her: a pile of dirty clothes lay on the floor, a trail of muddy paw prints on the stairs, and an overturned cup of orange juice was soaking onto the laundry.

As she stalked up the stairs, she tripped on an ice skate at the landing.

“I’m going to curse him into the middle of next week,” she growled in exasperation. With as much dignity as she could muster, she rose to look for the pernicious blonde she called a husband.

She found him and their youngest offspring curled up in front of the fire, taking a nap on the expansive sofa.

Angrily, she woke her husband and dragged him to his personal study.

“What is the matter, woman?” he drawled after the rude awakening.
“You!” she bellowed.
“ME? And exactly did I manage to do this time?”

The brunette stared incredulously at her husband, unable to form any coherent speech patterns. “Why don’t you sit your Gryffindor bum down and tell me what really is bothering you?!”

“NO! I will not sit. I specifically asked you to clean up this morning when I left. Instead, I found mud on the floor, dangerous toys lying about, orange juice soaking onto clothes, and unclean laundry abandoned in the middle of the hallway. Can’t your pathetic self cast a couple of cleaning charms? And what’s more…I find you sleeping in the library.”

“Wife,” he began out of irritation at the accusations, “I would have done all the servant work you demanded of me this morning had I not being preoccupied with matters of more importance.”

“Other…more importance…,” she angrily huffed. “And exactly WHAT were these matters?” she screamed indignantly.

“Our bloody children! I began sorting the laundry as you can see by the evidence left behind, but I had to tend to the stomachs of our evil spawn. Then that beast you call a cat came in through the blasted ‘doggy door’ you insisted on installing, leaving a trail of mud behind. At which point, our youngest spilled his orange juice and ran after the cat. By the time I found him, he was just as muddy. Therefore, I had to give him a bath. Of course, by then I had to go drop off our daughters with the bespectacled git and his offspring at Diagon Alley. By the time I came back home, I starting preparing dinner, which I burned by the way, and had YOU not insisted on freeing ALL the house-elves, PERHAPS all the servant work would have been completed! Granger!” he spat.

All of a sudden, a giggle escaped Hermione’s mouth. “Oh, Draco, you silly prat, how did you manage to burn microwaveable lasagna?”

just_the_contrary

09-25-2006, 17:30

Name: just_the_contrary
House: Ravenclaw
Title: Sirius vs. Peter
Words: 235
Warnings: none (real), but this drabble is based on the song The Confrontation from Les Miserables. The second I saw the title of this challenge I knew I wanted to do this. See if you can spot the similarities (there are many):

At first, it appeared to be exactly like any other day. The street was busy, the shops were crowded, although Sirius did not threaten to kill Peter every day.

Peter was cornered.

“At last,” said Sirius, brandishing his wand.

“Please, Padfoot,” begged Peter. “You-“

“Before you say another word, Wormtail, you scum of the Earth, listen to me! There is something I must ask.”

“Padfoot…” whimpered Peter.

“Do you expect me to leave behind the suffering child?” boomed Sirius. “I am the only one who can intercede. I’m the only one that knows!” His voice was deafening. Pedestrians had stopped to look.

“You must think me mad,” stuttered Peter. “The Dark Lord… he would hunt me down…”

“A man like you can never change,” said Sirius angrily. “A man so conceited and cowardly. I am warning you, Wormtail! I’m the stronger man by far!”

“There is power in the Dark Lord yet!” stammered Peter. “His race is not yet run!”

“If I have to kill you here,” whispered Sirius, the fist holding his wand clenching, “I’ll do what must be done!”

“My duty’s to the Dark Lord!” said Peter frantically. “Sirius, you are nothing now! Don’t you dare talk to me of crime.”

“I swear to you, tonight you will be nothing,” cried Sirius.

He pointed his wand. Discreetly, so did Peter.

Concrete flew everywhere as the blast hit the sidewalk.

And Peter was gone.

fawkes_07

09-26-2006, 17:16

Name: Fawkes_07
House: Slytherin
Title: Pot, Meet Kettle
Words: 495
Warnings: Very silly

The stout wooden table was practically bowing under the weight of dishes, scraps, and bones. Fang looked up at his master with tail tucked neatly between his legs, as if to say, "Don't blame me, Boss, I'm not supposed to eat off the table."

"GRAWP!" bellowed Hagrid.

Hagrid tapped his foot impatiently at the sounds of breaking branches, until Grawp emerged from the Forbidden Forest. He wagged a crooked finger at his baby brother, who obediently followed him inside.

"Grawp. I leave yeh for three days an' this is what I come home ter? Look at this mess! It smells like inside a shoe in here! We need ter talk about manners."

"What manners?" inquired Grawp.

"Tha's me point! It's about time fer yeh to learn some!"

A crease appeared between Grawp's wide eyes. "You said Grawp do good at sums!"

"What?" Hagrid barked crossly. "No, no, not sums, SOME! Pay attention, Grawpy."

The crease deepened. "What tension?"

Hagrid shut his eyes, as if the change in visuals could somehow reboot the entire conversation. "Never mind. Look here, Grawp. Do yeh see all this?"

Grawp leaned down and peered with great concentration at the tabletop. "See all that."

"All that, yeah. Well, tha's mess. Unnerstand? Mess. Not good, Grawpy."

"Not good, mess," repeated the giant.

"Yes!" said Hagrid emphatically. "Mess bad."

Grawpy's round head tilted on its axis. "You said mess not good."

"Right!"

"Mess not good AND mess bad?" One could almost hear the cogwheels grinding to a halt.

Like a pair of shutters slamming shut in a windstorm, Hagrid threw his hands up and covered his face. "Not good and bad are the same, Grawp. Not good means bad. Yeh see?"

Once again, Grawp peered at the table. "I see mess."

"Good. Good. This is a mess. Yeh shouldn't leave a mess fer yer brother, Grawp."

The giant had to sit down for that one. "My brother Hagrid. I Grawp."

"Oh for the love of...Listen, Grawp. Okay? Don't talk. Shh." Hagrid put his finger over his lips, which Grawp mimicked. "Just listen." He paused a moment, and Grawp nodded conspiratorially, making only a little "shh" sound. "You left a mess there. That wasn't nice, Grawp. You don' leave yer scraps on the table to get all smelly. You pick them up, like this--" Hagrid demonstrated, lifting the femur of a sheep off the table "--an' put them in the heap outside."

Grawp watched the process closely. With one broad sweep, he pulled scraps, bones and dishes against his chest and heaved it gracefully through the back door to crash onto the compost heap. He smiled broadly at his brother as he picked up a nearby pillowcase to wipe the sludge from his shirt.

Hagrid raised his hands and lowered them several times, then stomped out of the cabin without a word. Grawp looked after him uncomprehendingly, offering Fang a chunk that had stuck to his forearm. "Hagrid talk funny," he muttered.

Sly Severus

09-26-2006, 18:41

Name: Sly Severus
House: Slytherin
Title: Why?
Words: 498
Warnings: None

Bellatrix sat in the familiar cell. She was almost certain that she had been returned to the same cell she had occupied for fifteen years of her life, but she knew it was a foolish thought. There was no way to tell one Azkaban cell from another. You could hardly tell one Azkaban prisoner from another.

She stared through the bars as she heard footsteps coming down the hall. There was no reason for her to look. No one would be coming to see her. There was no one left who cared if she lived or died. She turned to face the back of her cell, uninterested in being gawked at like a bad piece of art.

To her surprise, the footsteps seemed to stop in front of her cell. She refused to turn around, assuming that she imagined them. Azkaban had a way of making you imagine things. She didn’t believe that anyone was really there until a voice spoke to her.

“Why?” came a soft whisper.

Finally, she turned. She was amazed to see a young woman, with vibrant pink hair glaring at her. It was Andromeda’s daughter—her niece. It was a woman who had helped to return her to this cell. What could she possible want?

“Why what?” she snapped, in hoarse voice.

“Why did you follow the Dark Lord? Why did you turn your back on my mother? Why did you kill Sirius?”

“Why do you care?”

“You’re the only family I have left. Everyone else is dead.”

“So I’m supposed to warm up to you? Have you forgotten that you helped put me here?”

“I don’t expect you to like me. I don’t plan to like you. I just want to know what happened to you.”

Bellatrix thought for a moment, debating if she should answer the questions. In the end, she chose to. She realized that she was equally curious about her niece, and in no hurry for the young witch to leave.

“I followed him because it was expected of me. I turned on your mother because I was told to. I fought Sirius because we were on opposite sides, but I did not mean to kill him. He fell.”

Tonks was silent for a moment, taking in her aunt’s words.

“Have you ever done anything because you wanted to? How about just because you believed it was right?”

Bellatrix looked baffled.

“No,” she said, at last. “I was born a Black. I was born with a destiny. What was right was already decided for me.”

Tonks nodded.

“Mum was right about you,” she said, with pity in her eyes. “You were never a real person, only a brainwashed zombie.”

Bellatrix responded with her best glare, but Tonks did not respond to it. She simply walked away.

Bellatrix was left alone in her cell to contemplate what her niece had said to her. She had many years to wonder about those words, but she never saw Nymphadora Tonks again.

Quidditch_Playa

09-27-2006, 00:14

Name: Quidditch_Playa
House: Hufflepuff
Title: Just a Little Bit
Words: 305
Warnings: None

“Why would I ever want to date a fat-headed prat like you, Potter?” Lily spat with contempt.

“What makes you think I’m still going after you, Evans?” James snapped angrily.

They were at it again. Passers-by saw the two seventh years, who were obviously infatuated with each other, arguing- as usual.

“Oh, I don’t know,” she replied coldly. “Maybe because you’re constantly stalking me. Good lord, Potter. You can’t be any more obvious.”

“Is that so?” James growled, his face growing red. “Maybe if you’d stop gawking at me every moment of the day, you’d realize that I’m just going on my own way.”

Behind the rowing pair, Sirius could be heard, groaning loudly. Lily shot an angry glare in his direction, shaking her fiery red mane of hair out of her face.

“I don’t gawk,” she retorted indignantly. She took a step toward him, her hands placed angrily on her hips. “You’re an idiot to think I would.”

James, too, took a step toward Lily. “I may be a prat and an idiot, but I’m not as dumb as you think.”

“Oh, really?” Lily asked in a haughty, taunting voice. “What makes you so sure?”

He took another step toward her. “Because I’m not stupid enough to not notice how much you love me.”

She scoffed resentfully. “Where in your fat head could you ever-“

Her retort was silenced as James pressed his lips to hers. Her anger melted immediately. She vaguely heard Sirius whoop loudly in victory. Peter was squealing in the distance. Remus’s chuckle was muffled. The kiss that had started as James’s tool to cut Lily off quickly grew into one of passion and meaning.

They finally broke apart but only when breathing was becoming difficult. Panting heavily, she replied, “Okay, so maybe I love you- but just a little bit.”

Pheonix song

09-28-2006, 12:24

Name:Pheonix song
House:Hufflepuff
Title:Tough Brotherly Love
Words:498
Warnings:None

The two brothers stared at each other for a long time, neither believing what he saw in the other.
Percy lowered his gaze from Bill’s once handsome face. He had received a letter a few weeks ago about the attack, but only now did the information seem concrete to him. Bill was covered in deeps scratches that were still fresh and red, his eyes were steely and intimidating, not the warm blue ones he remembered his big brother having.

“I heard you sent your Weasley sweater back” Bill said lowly.

“So what if I did?” Percy challenged, pretending to sort some papers on his tiny desk.

“How could you do that?”

Percy kept his gaze low and on the blank parchment in his hand “I don’t have to answer to you”

“Our mother has been crying her eyes out over you,” Bill said with disgust “so you had better answer me”

“Or what?” Percy muttered, not daring to look up at his brothers ruined face.

Bill took a breath as if to calm himself, but his words were cold and harsh
“Do you realize how much your hurting them? Can you use any of that brain power to think of what your doing to your family? All because you can’t admit that you were wrong. . .”

“That has nothing to do with it!” Percy yelled, daring a glare at his brother.

“Than what is it about, Percy?”

Percy didn’t answer his brother because he knew he had lied, instead he snarled “Is that why you came? To try and make me feel guilty?”

“No, I'm here to tell you what your doing to yourself! And what a selfish coward your being!”

“Get out!” Percy fumed

“I'm not going anywhere until I talk some sense into that thick skull of yours!”

Percy continued to avoid his brothers’ gaze, which made it very hard to seem intimidating “I said leave”

“Look at me, Percy” Bill said suddenly, Percy kept his gaze down “Look at me!”

Percy looked at his brother to see that his deformed face had softened a bit, but when Bill spoke his voice carried bite. “People are dying everyday, disappearing off the streets. Now is not the time to hold grudges or say and do things that you don't really mean. Everyday you have a chance to go home and say that your sorry, but one morning you might wake up and find that you can't, and then the only thing you'll have to apologize to is a tomb”

These words stung Percy in a way that he hadn't expected one of his brothers speeches could have.

“They don’t want to see me,” Percy muttered “They hate me now”

“No,” Bill told him “Their just angry, it would take a while but they would forgive you”

“How do you know?”

“Because Mum already has, Dad has too he just doesn't know it yet, and so do I” He paused “the others will catch on soon enough”

myownmuggle

09-28-2006, 23:06

Name: myownmuggle
House: Ravenclaw
Title: An Entirely Different Matter
Words: 389
Warnings: None

“Charlie, you can’t be serious. It’s ridiculous and I won’t have it. I absolutely will not allow you to go.” Molly put her hands on her hips and glared at her son.

“Mum, it’s my life. Besides, I’ve already made my decision,” Charlie replied calmly, although he squirmed uncomfortably under her scowl.

“Who’s making decisions? What’s going on in here?” Bill walked in to the kitchen, clearly amused at his brother’s discomfort.

Charlie turned bright red and hung his head. “I suppose there’s no point in hiding this any longer, is there?”

Molly nodded stiffly and started to speak but was distracted by the sound of her family clock. Her husband’s hand moved from work to traveling with a chime.

“Just you wait until your father comes home. He’ll have plenty to say about this.” Molly was starting to sound like a whistling teakettle, Bill noted with a wide smile. He was careful not to laugh aloud, preferring to let Charlie remain the target of her anger.

“Say about what, dear?” Arthur appeared in the door as the clock hand settled on home. “What’s all the commotion?”

“Your son-” Molly shrieked as she reached a full boil. She extended her wand to point at Charlie. “He’s just announced he’s been offered a job and he’s accepted!”

Arthur clapped Charlie on the shoulder. “That’s wonderful son, what is it? Gringotts, like Bill? The Ministry? No, it must be Quidditch! Who’s the lucky team?” Arthur grinned and Bill began to snicker.

Molly jabbed Charlie in the shoulder with her wand. “Tell your father, Charlie. Tell your father everything.”

“Charlie?” Arthur was concerned now, and a little disappointed as his vision of luxury seats at Quidditch matches vanished.

“Yeah Charlie, tell us,” Bill urged. “We’re waiting.”

Charlie took a deep breath before addressing the group. “I’m going to Romania, to study and work with dragons.”

“Wicked!” Three voices exclaimed from the stairway. Fred, George, and Ron burst into the room and promptly inundated their brother with questions. Bill joined them, leaving Molly and Arthur to watch the growing celebration.

“Dragons? I don’t understand, Molly.” Arthur turned to his wife.

“Dragons,” Molly snorted. “Your son has taken leave of his senses.”

Charlie grinned sheepishly as he listened to his mother. Quidditch, they could understand apparently. Dragons? Now that was an entirely different matter.

Chazzie

09-29-2006, 02:22

Name: Chazzie
House: Hufflepuff
Title: Idiot
Words: 449
Warnings: None

Harry sank down on to the grass next to Ginny. They sat quietly for a while in a comfortable silence. He could hear her breathing and counted those breaths; it was the sweetest sound he’d heard all day, all that week, perhaps, of her avoiding him.

After several minutes of silence, Harry broke it. “Ginny?” he asked tentatively.

There was a pause. “I’m not mad,” she said quietly, still looking stubbornly ahead.

Harry sighed and picked up a handful of leaves before slowly crumpling them in his hand. “You should be,” he said finally.

Ginny turned her head and looked at him, waiting patiently for him to go on.

“It’s just… I’m an idiot. You were right.” Harry closed his eyes briefly. “But if being an idiot is the only way to keep you safe, if it’s the only way I can – ”

“Don’t,” said Ginny fiercely. “Don’t say that you have to protect me, because you don’t.”

“Ginny –”

“Please, Harry!” Ginny said sharply. She let out a heaving, shaky breath and after a moment’s pause bluntly said, “Come on. Do you really expect me to just sit on the sidelines while you and Ron and Hermione fight? Do you expect me to just accept all this, go back to school, everything’s sunshine and rainbows? Because I want to, Harry,” she said vehemently. “I want to fight.”

“You can’t – what do you mean, fight?” said Harry, trying – and failing – to sound casual.

Ginny made an angry sound at the back of her throat. “I mean fight! Fight him, fight Voldemort!”

Harry sighed and put his head in his hands. “I can’t let you fight, Ginny,” he told her, his voice muffled.

“I don’t think it’s up to you to make that decision for me!” she said, taking his hands in hers and shaking them angrily.

Harry let out a groan and pulled his hands from her grasp. “Maybe, Ginny,” he said hoarsely, “maybe I don’t like making these decisions any more than you like me carrying them out, but we can’t ignore the fact that Voldemort’s out there and he wants to kill me, and he’d kill you, too, if he thought you were a way to get to me! I’m just saving you from –”

“Harry, this isn’t the Chamber of Secrets, I don’t need you to save me!”

“I wasn’t – ” started Harry desperately.

Ginny glared at him. “Don’t lie to me, Harry. I can always tell.” She pushed herself up and strode swiftly out of the orchard.

Harry stood up and watched her leave, her long red hair dancing behind her. Idiot. That’s what I am. He gave the nearest tree an angry kick.

Idiot.

crazy_purple_hp_freak

09-30-2006, 10:42

*dashes in last minute...* :D *hopes she's not too late*

Mithril's Note: It's only too late when the thread has been locked! I'll leave it open for another few hours for last minute entries.

Name: crazy_purple_hp_freak
House: Slytherin
Title: An Equal Beginning
Words: 494
Warnings: None

“What?” sneered the tall, blonde-haired boy, his grey eyes glinting with mischief as his observed with growing disdain, the two heavily built, but clumsy individuals standing before him, their thickset forms throwing shadows over him by the light of the fire in the dungeon common room.

“We – “

“We want – “ the large boy with a wide mouth and flat nose hesitated.

“What?” the blonde boy repeated. “Honestly, you two are so stupid sometimes I’m surprised you know how to talk at all, let alone slowly.” He smirked, folded his arms and began to walk away.

He had scarcely gone five steps when he felt quick steps behind him and strong hands push him harshly so he fell back into the nearest armchair.

“We’re SICK of you Draco!!!” hollered the first boy, his stiff gorilla-like arms trembling to the very knuckle as he tried to keep his resolve.

“Yeah, we’re sick of you,” rasped the second, cracking his knuckles menacingly as he towered over the blonde boy.

“You never take us seriously – “

“You never listen to us – “

“You, you – “

“You always treat us like we’re stupid – “

The blonde boy snorted. “That’s because you are stu- “

“SHUT IT!” The blonde boy gulped and paled visibly as he noticed the two before him flexing their fingers with power as if to grasp him by the throat. He’d never quite appreciated just how much his ‘bodyguards’ stood for his protection, how much they had done for him.

Holding his hands out in front of himself, as if in makeshift defence, he cleared his throat nervously.

“Well – er, what do you –um, what to do about it then?”

The taller of the two thugs scratched his head in concentrated thought, the shorter and slightly wiser one, too paused for a moment, pondering the situation. Now that it had come to this moment, saying what they thought was harder than they had imagined. As much as they wanted their own way, neither wanted really, to lose the only person who had ever acknowledged them; and they knew, too that the blonde boy wanted no more to lose the only two people that he had ever considered as “friends”.

“We want – we want –“ the taller boy began, “We want to be treated as equals.”

The second boy nodded in agreement. “We’re not stupid, and we don’t want to be treated as if we are.”

The blonde boy looked down at his feet, his characteristic sneer steadily seeping away. The second boy continued, “We’re just as important, just as valuable as you are, and we’re not going to be your shadows anymore.”

He looked directly into the blonde boy’s eye, in unspoken challenge; all three boys apparently of the crucial nature of this deciding moment.

An unspoken contract passed through the air, and a fresh start ensued.

The blonde boy stood up, took a deep breath, and finally, spoke.

“Yes. All right then. I’ll try.”

lily_16_evans

09-30-2006, 13:50

Hope this is still in the time limit.

Name: lily_16_evans
House: Slytherin
Title: The Truth
Words: 308
Warnings: a slightly bad word

"Eileen! Eileen get your ass down here!"

Eileen slowly crept down the stairs following the booming voice of her husband. Before heading down she had sent her son to his room, and discreetly slipped her wand into her sleeve in preparation. As she entered the kitchen she was greeted by the angry frown planted on her husband's face.

"What is the meaning of this Eileen!" He threw an envelope from across the room that hit her lightly in the face. Picking up the letter she immediately noticed a crest bearing a snake, lion, badger, and an eagle. A gasp escaped from her lips which she tried to cover by slapping a hand to her mouth.

"Why is my son a freak?" boomed Tobias rounding the kitchen counter and making his way towards his wife, "You have something to do with this!" Before she could do anything to help it, his hand had already reached her face, and though his hand fell limp beside him, the sting from teh slap stayed on her face.

"He - he's not a freak. He's a wizard." Eileen breathed slowly trying to keep calm as her husband's heavy hot breath reached her face.

"What have you done to him? This must be your fault!" Tobias raised his hand once more, this time however, Eileen was ready. The wand she h ad hidden in her sleeve came out in a flash and Tobias was sent flying backwards.

“What the – Eileen it WAS you! You infected my boy!” Tobias screamed as he scrambled to his feet. His eyes burned with hatred as his they met with Eileen’s. The two adults stared intently at each other until they were interrupted by a sob from the doorway. Severus stood in shock, looking from his mother’s bruising cheek to his father’ glare of loathing.

“Is this my fault?”

Gonz

09-30-2006, 16:33

Name: Gonz
House: Hufflepuff
Title: Obligations
Words: 252
Warnings: None

Two shadows walked through the moonlight in Forbidden Forest.

“Severus, I need you to do this for me.”

“You take too much for granted, Dumbledore. I don’t want to do it anymore.”

“You agreed to do it, Snape, that’s all there is to it. Please make investigations into your house.”

“I can’t.”

Dumbledore looked down at his companion, “You have to.”

“I made an Unbreakable Vow. Draco has to succeed or I…”

“Will have to kill me,” Dumbledore finished.

“Now you know why I can’t do this,” Snape countered.

Dumbledore paused then said softly, “I am already dying; when the time comes, you must fulfill the vow.”

“I hate you!” Severus screamed. “You don’t care about anyone; you just use them to achieve your own ends. You do to me, you do it to Potter, and you’ve done it to countless others. I have enough; you are not using me any more!”

Snape turned and stormed back toward the castle.

Dumbledore called after him, “Severus, you don’t hate me. You wouldn’t be furious if you hated me. No, your problem is that you love me.”

Severus stopped. After a long silence he whispered, “I love you like a father, Albus. Don’t make me do this.”

A single tear trickled down Dumbledore’s check as he came up, and placed a hand on Snape’s shoulder. “You are like the son I never had. Trust me, I would never wish your fate upon anyone, but you are the only person I trust to do this.”

Celestial Melody

09-30-2006, 19:01

Name: Celestial Melody
House: Ravenclaw
Title: Solitude Broken
Words: 441
Warnings: None

“Ah…” Hermione sighed luxuriously as she lounged full-length on one of the plush, scarlet couches adorning the Gryffindor Common Room. The late afternoon sun streamed pure and bright through the paned glass windows and cast a glow on Hermione’s advanced course books. This was the time of day she loved best. No one was lurking nearby to bother her because, due to her unique schedule during her third year, Hermione’s agenda differed from the other students’.

Hermione relished the solitude away from her classmates, and yes, that did include Harry and Ron. Hermione was tired of doing all their work for them, and…

“Hermione! What was the significance of the 1682 Goblin Revolt?” Ron came charging through the portrait door, blue eyes huge in his pale face, clutching a wrinkled sheet of parchment.

Unlike Hermione, Ron obviously didn’t have a free period and had procrastinated on his History of Magic assignment yet again.

Aggravated beyond belief, Hermione laid Advanced Rune Translations to the side, sat up, placed her hands on her knees, and looked Ron straight in the eye.

“Ronald Weasley,” she began in a deathly quiet voice, “I am tired of answering all your questions.” Hermione’s already shrill voice increased in pitch as she continued her tirade. “What is the matter with you? Where is your drive, your commitment? Go do your own work!”

Huffing angrily, Hermione picked up her book again and shoved it directly in front of her face actively ignoring Ron's stunned countenance.

Ron’s bewildered gaze searched his friend’s half-hidden face. “But…” he began tentatively.

“Ronald! I am reading. Now, go away. STOP bothering me!” Hermione was screeching now, her book forgotten as she leapt to her feet.

Ron backed away, shocked. “I … I’m…,” he stuttered.

“Well, what are you?” Hermione’s foot tapped impatiently as she watched Ron’s penitent expression with a hawk-like glare.

“I … I try, Hermione, but you’ve always helped me before. Can’t you just…” Ron’s voice trailed off pathetically.

Hermione felt her anger ebbing as she gazed into Ron’s pitiful eyes. She tried to regain the rage she’d felt, but to no avail. Sighing, she sank back onto the couch. She would never be able to tell him, ‘No,’ and she hated it. Looking up at Ron, Hermione gestured futilely at the empty space beside her on the couch.

Ron breathed a sigh of relief as his pale face began to regain color in splotches of red. “Thanks…” he began, but Hermione cut him off brusquely, reaching forward to grab the piece of parchment clamped in his sweaty hand.

“Don’t. Say. Anything. Now, what am I supposed to be helping you with?”

Loralie

09-30-2006, 19:52

Name: Loralie
House: Hufflepuff
Title: Broken Heart
Words: 307
Warnings: AU

Tears filled her sparkling green eyes, as she looked at him incredulously.
“What did you just say to me?”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t hear me, Mudblood. I said I don’t want to see you anymore.”

Where did this come from? They had been so happy! He had never cared about her blood before, and now all of a sudden she was a Mudblood? He turned and started to walk away.

“Severus, please. What happened? Why are you angry with me? And since when do you call me a Mudblood?” She was getting angry now. “And who are YOU to call ME a Mudblood? Your blood is just as dirty as mine!”

He whirled around and grabbed her by the arm. “Don’t you ever say that again, do you hear me?” he growled at her, his black eyes hard, without the sparkle they normally had when he was with her. He had never treated her like this. She finally let those tears fall.

“It’s those new friends of yours isn’t it? They convinced you I wasn’t good enough. Did you tell them about your father? Do they know about him?” she yelled at him through her tears.

“I told you to shut up about that. No, they don’t know, and they aren’t going to either. Because they’re right. Why do you think I never talked about my family? My Muggle father and my Muggle grandparents, do you know what they did? They disowned me and my mother. We were on our own. When my father died, I got nothing from him, NOTHING! As far as I am concerned, I have no father. So yes, my new friends helped me realize that Muggles are weak, and I don’t ever want to be weak. Face it Lily, we are over.”

Severus Snape walked off, leaving a broken heart behind him.

coppercurls

10-01-2006, 01:55

Name: coppercurls
House: Hufflepuff
Title: Incorrigable
Word count: 499
Warnings: mild swearing

"Watch where you are going, you cretin!"

"Me?" the witch cried indignantly, gathering up her spilled books. "You pay attention! Whatever happened to ladies first?"

“Shove off.”

“I will as soon as you take your foot off my book. And what makes you think you have the right to order me around in the first place?” Hermione asked hotly.

Draco paused for a moment, before sneering elegantly. “I don’t have to explain myself to you, you filthy little mud…”

“Don’t even say it,” Hermione warned him, her finger quivering with fury as she waved it in his face.

“Say what? Mudblood? I don’t know why you are so offended Granger, 'cause you know its true…”

His words were cut off as he suddenly found himself slammed against the wall of the hallway, Hermione’s wrathful face inches from his own. Pain radiated from the back of his skull where it connected with the solid stone, and he knew he would have a bruise by dinner.

“Damnit, Granger, that hurt,” he moaned, wishing she would step back.

She stayed squarely in front of him, glaring like a basilisk. “And I suppose it never occurred to you that it hurts me when you say that, does it? You are a horrible, spoiled, selfish brat, so why should it ever occur to you to think about others? But at least I can console myself that I will never sink as low as you!” Hermione finished, panting with the effort of loosing so many hateful words.

Draco swallowed, momentarily stunned by her words. “My, my Granger, always such a nice girl; I didn’t know you had it in you,” he drawled at last.

She slapped him this time, the flat of her hand catching him high on the cheek. It flared a brilliant scarlet before fading to an angry red.

“Ow!” Draco wailed.

Almost at once Hermione began to apologize, surprised by her own violence. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. Bashing someone who is down is your style, not mine. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”

“Damn right.”

For a second he thought she was going to hit him again, and realized he really shouldn’t push his luck too many times in one day. He heaved a quiet sigh of relief when she dropped her hand. Instead, he found what she did next even worse.

He, the prince of Slytherin, was being laughed at by a know-it-all mudblood. The humiliation was simply too much.

“What?” Draco demanded, trying to look imperious; a fact that was ruined by the grimace he made as he gently rubbed his bruised skull.

Still giggling, Hermione quickly picked up her books before walking away.

“What is so funny?” Draco yelled after her, cheeks flushed from more than her slap.

Her voice drifted back to him as she disappeared around the corner. “You’re incorrigible.”

“What?”

Only silence greeted him, and at last, a rather put out Draco trudged back to the common room, swearing about the bloody Gryffindors.