Weekly Drabble Challenge # 4 - Results!

[MithrilQuill]

I'm in an end of Ramadan mood today, so you have two relevant topics:


Topic 1: Giving Back

A canon character, suddenly realizing or feeling how lucky they are decides to help another (or others) with whatever they have.


Topic 2: Resolution

A canon character makes a resolution, but it must be one in which they decide to improve something about their character...sort of an internal resolution.


You may answer one or both of the drabbles, and please use the following form(take out the space so they're in bold):


[b]Author:[/ b]
[b]House:[/ b]
[b]Title:[/ b]
[b]Topic:[/ b]
[b]Warnings:[/ b]
[b]Words: [/ b]


The winners will be awarded 15, 10, and 5 points respectively.


*goes off trying to think of Halloween topic for next week*

[the*evenstar]

Author: the*evenstar
House: Ravenclaw
Title: New Beginnings
Topic: Topic 2 - Resolution
Warnings: none
Words: 499

Harry and Hermione dashed to the Burrow, pounding on the door as soon as they could reach. As Ron opened the door, Harry blurted, “We've been looking for that Horcrux for weeks, and we've almost–”

“Shh, come in,” Ron whispered excitedly, pulling them inside. “You'll never believe it.”

Harry looked a little confused; Hermione, disgusted. “What?” she asked incredulously. “Don't you want to–”

“Shh!” Ron whispered, shutting the door. “Percy came back!”

“When?” Harry asked, instantly forgetting his Horcrux-hunt.

Ron led the two into the den, where Ginny and the twins sat close to the kitchen door. “Last night. Mum and Dad are in the kitchen with him, but we... couldn't take it anymore.”

“Same old Percy, then?” Hermione asked.

“No, actually, he's gone a bit... loony,” Ron explained. “He came to the door last night, looking positively terrorized, and said he'd repented.”

“He started rambling about ‘covert missions’ for the Ministry,” Ginny remarked, “and all the terrible things he wished he'd never seen, and said he wanted to start over!”

“By gracing us with his lovely presence,” said George.

“And he's always hugging you, telling you how much he loves you,” Fred added, shuddering slightly.

The conversation in the kitchen grew louder. “So, Dad,” Percy began. “You're still enjoying your little job at the Ministry?”

“As always,” Arthur replied. “Why, just yesterday–”

“Say, have you ever considered doing more charitable work?” Percy interjected.

“I, well...” Arthur stammered. “As a... career?”

“Yes! After confronting the sort of evil that goes on in the Ministry, I'm quite disgusted. I'd hoped that perhaps you and I could join the Society for Muggle-Wizard Relations... as a father-son endeavor?”

“Mmhmm?”

“I imagine it'd be a bit more fulfilling than examining useless batteries all day!” Percy beamed, oblivious, as always, to others' emotions.

“Yes, well,” Arthur began, “isn't that thoughtful? Molly, dear, I just remembered – I left a few files back at the office. I–”

“Oh, please don't go!” Molly begged, but Arthur had already walked out the kitchen door. The eavesdroppers in the adjacent room tried rapidly to appear preoccupied.

“That Percy,” Arthur muttered, “still nothing but a– Harry! Hermione! How nice to see you!” He smiled as he rushed out the door.

Molly and Percy remained in the kitchen, their conversation hushed but continuous. The eavesdroppers had nearly forgotten their eavesdropping, when suddenly, the conversation in the kitchen picked up volume once again.

“But Mother! I want to be happy! I want to live with Penelope in the forest, and sing with the birds while making blueberry pancakes! I don't ever want to think of dark things again! Never!” Percy exclaimed as he broke into tears.

“That's so nice, dear,” Molly remarked. “I'll be right back, darling.” Molly emerged from the kitchen, shaking her head. “So needy,” she exclaimed. “I can't remember why I ever missed the– Oh, we have company!”

“Mother!” Percy called from the kitchen. “I need you!”

Molly smirked, and the whole den rang with laughter.

[Cinderella Angelina]

Author: Cinderella Angelina
House: Hufflepuff
Title: Ha. None. I don't believe in them.
Topic: Resolution
Warnings: Ha. None. I don't believe in them.
Words: 499 (I didn't even have to edit!)

Anthony Goldstein looked up from his homework as Padma Patil walked by. Terry and Michael had her on their list of Five Most Attractive Ravenclaw Girls, but Anthony didn’t care so much about that. He’d watched her for a few years now, and he knew: he wanted Padma Patil as a friend.

It was really a pity he was so shy, Anthony reflected, glancing down at the page of Runes he was translating. The only reason he had Terry and Michael as friends at all was the fact they shared a dormitory and had classes together and Anthony had found himself slowly warming up to them. They had made all the friendly motions. He’d accepted, but hadn’t offered any himself. So there was no way Padma would become his friend unless she made the first move.

“This is ridiculous,” he muttered, making a passing Luna Lovegood look at him (being Luna, she didn’t think it strange he was talking to himself). “I’ve wanted it for so long.” Deep in his heart, he knew that his shyness was just a cover. The fact was that he was simply unfriendly. He could smile and make conversation. But he wouldn’t. And that had to change, if friendship with Padma – and with Lisa Turpin, and with anyone at all besides Terry and Michael – were to happen.

He was afraid of making a fool of himself. But, as Anthony shut his textbooks with a slam, he thought that any humiliation was better than this stagnation. Terry and Michael each had girlfriends and talked to others besides each other. It was time to forget about his pride and make a change.

Padma was coming this way again, probably on her way to dinner as Lisa was also with her, the two walking companionably side by side. Anthony stood up suddenly, resolving within himself to do something.

“Hey girls,” he said, trying not to speak quietly and coming out a tad too loud. He smiled shyly. “Going down to dinner?”

“Yeah,” they said.

“Mind if I come along?” he said, his heart simultaneously rejoicing and fearing.

“No, you can come.”

All the way to the Great Hall, Anthony forced himself to make conversation with the girls he’d exchanged only scant words with before. From the way they laughed at his semi-witty comments, he felt he wasn’t making as big a fool of himself as he’d feared. And to his immense pleasure, they invited him to study with them later that night.

On the way back from dinner, Anthony made it a point to smile at passing students he recognized. It was hard to make eye contact, and even harder not to look away from the classmates he’d been surrounded by for years and never made an effort to get to know. Some avoided his gaze, but some smiled back. Heart pumping, Anthony told himself that it was a good start.

But he could always afford to be less unfriendly. And there was always tomorrow.

[Gmariam]

Author: Gmariam
House: Ravenclaw
Title: Principles
Topic: Resolution
Warnings: Fluff
Words: 493

James Potter had made up his mind: he was no longer going to tease, torture, or trail after Lily Evans. He would forget about the fiery redhead, and accept his new responsibilities as Head Boy.

His plan was going well until Potions. As usual, Evans produced a perfect solution and Slughorn showered her with praise. James glared at her, forgetting that he was supposed to ignore her now. The potion he was tending turned a sickly shade of green and exploded, covering him in a sticky substance that resembled apple jelly.

Storming out after class, James paid no attention to Sirius calling after him. He did not, however, ignore the other voice he heard.

“Oi, Potter!” called Lily Evans. “What’s wrong, can’t handle N.E.W.T. level potions anymore?”

James turned and gave her a look blank disinterest. “I was distracted,” he replied indifferently, inwardly fuming.

“What?” she asked, feigning surprise. “That’s all? No clever comeback from the great James Potter?”

“Go stick your nose in your cauldron, Evans,” he said scornfully. “I’m tired of entertaining you with my exceptional wit. I have to clean up.”

Lily raised her eyebrows. “I think you look better covered in green slime, Potter.”

“Green’s not my color, Evans. It reminds me of a certain redhead wanker and her beady little eyes.”

Lily turned a deep shade of angry red. “Prat!” she shouted, as she drew her wand.

Now James raised an eyebrow. “Go ahead and try, Evans. You’re not nearly - ”

Without warning he found himself flailing in midair. “ – fast enough,” he finished, and cast a silent spell of his own. Lily joined him upside down, sputtering incoherently.

“You are the biggest git I have ever known!” she hissed. James was suddenly struck by how beautiful she was; he also realized that he really didn’t want to give up on her, because even when she yelled at him she was the most amazing girl he had ever known.

“I know,” he said, grinning. “I can’t help it, you drive me crazy.” He floated closer toward her, until they were face to face.

“I do not!” she exclaimed heatedly. “It’s not my fault if you can’t get it through your thick skull that I will never, ever, go out with you, so help me - ”

James stopped her with a kiss, and the world seemed to explode. It was more perfect than he could have possibly imagined.

“Don’t make a promise you can’t keep,” he whispered. They fell to the ground, Lily landing hard on top of James. To his shock, she kissed him back before pushing off him and kneeing him solidly in the stomach.

“It was never a promise, Potter. Just a principle: I don't date cads.” She stood up, perfectly composed, while James felt his face flush. Gathering her things, Lily walked away, throwing a sly wink over her shoulder at James.

He would never give up on her now - on principle.

[Mind_Over_Matter]

Author: Mind_Over_Matter!
House: Most definitely Ravenclaw
Title: Colourful
Topic: Topic 2: Resolution
Warnings: Not a one! Unless you count a hint of pointlessness. Also abundant usage of synonyms. And by the way, this is when Professor Binns was still alive.
Words: Exactly five hundred. Which, by the way, proves that I am actually capable of sticking to such mundane limits.
Get to the bleeding point and Drabble already!:

Professor Binns walked tiredly into his private quarters at Hogwarts. Of course, even to himself he was Professor Binns. He’d been teaching for so long, it had truly become his identity, and one he was certainly happy with.

However, despite these deep realms of interest and substance, Professor Binns had heard a most ridiculous idea today. One of the older children – a seventh year, even, experiencing the most intriguing content of the entire Hogwarts History of Magic course – had had the audacity to call him boring.

Boring! What fires of internal unrest could drive a student to such a preposterous suggestion? It was simply unthinkable!

Never the less, he supposed, there was no pleasing youth with historical facts, no matter how deeply riveting they were. No, to interest youth, one had to truly connect. Professor Binns reminded himself of this.

He would bring the subject alive for the students, he would truly talk to them, communicate directly to their modern thinking minds! Ah yes, Professor Binns had come to a resolution. He would be the most colourful teacher around!

o0oOo0o

Long into the night, Professor Binns thought about his magnificent scheme, plotting to bring about a change in his classes which would cater to even the least academic of students, and by the time he had finished, his plan had been plotted and polished to perfection.

The following day, he had History of Magic with the third year Ravenclaws and Slytherins first up. He could see now, upon actually looking at his class, that perhaps the level of enthusiasm could be a little higher – but then, of course, this particular class might just be made of a selective collection of the school’s most drab introverts.

Never the less, he cleared his throat and then confidently begun class on a slightly unorthodox note.
“I think you may all notice that I am, beginning this class on a slightly different note to usual. Instead of taking attendance and immediately becoming immersed in the events and modulation of societies, facts and political situations of our world’s past, I am starting the class by giving you this explanation , which I assume you have all noticed to be quite different from my usual pattern.”

The room got more enthused, he could feel it.

“I would like to introduce to you all my plan for transforming this subject and this classroom’s general atmospheric quality into something more socially encouraging. Now, now, don’t get too excited about it. To make sure the suspense isn’t too heavy, I’ll explain my scheme, right now:
“If any one of you have a question, instead of calling me ‘Sir’, you may refer to me as ‘Professor’, ‘Professor Binns’, or even, if you’re feeling particularly radically inclines, ‘Binns’. Do you have any questions?”

No one raised their hands.

Professor Binns smiled to himself as he started his lecture on the medieval gnome slaughterings. Everything was different now, and he most certainly would never have to worry about being ‘boring’ ever again.

[myownmuggle]

Author: myownmuggle
House: Ravenclaw
Title: Preserve His Legacy
Topic: Giving Back
Warnings: None
Words: 496

Four witches and wizards stood by the lake on the day their beloved master and teacher was buried. All manner of creatures, animal and otherwise, had come to share their grief and pay their respects at his tomb. As the last of those that had gathered at the water’s edge began to drift away, the four came together as they had so many times in recent memory.

The dark haired witch spoke first. Fire flashed in her eyes, belying the sorrow that filled her voice. “If not for him, we would not have learned magic. Our kind would have been hidden away.”

“If not for him, we would have no future. Our gifts would have been lost.” The fair-haired witch took the hand of her dark haired friend and smiled in spite of the tears that rose in her eyes.

“If not for him, we would not have found our strength. Our hearts would have remained small and empty.” The red haired wizard joined hands with the fair-haired witch. His face was taught with worry as he extended a hand to the last member of their group.

The pale, black haired wizard was silent under the inquisitive gaze of his companions. His voice was faint but strong when he finally chose to speak.

“If not for him, we would be weak and ordinary. We would be no different from the simple, ignorant Muggles in the next village.” The wizard’s words were filled with conviction, but he did not stop there. He took the hands of his friends and closed their circle.

“We have many qualities and skills between us, my friends. Our teacher taught us to recognize these traits in ourselves and in others. Perhaps that was the teacher’s greatest gift to us. We must now share that knowledge with others.” The small group nodded solemnly as the black haired wizard finished.

“We are just and loyal,” the dark haired witch offered as she squeezed the hand of the fair-haired witch.

“We are brave at heart,” the fair-haired witch declared as she smiled widely at the red haired wizard.

“We are cunning,” the red haired wizard proclaimed as he tipped his head to the black haired wizard.

“And we are wise,” the black haired wizard whispered to the dark haired witch.

The sun slowly sank below the horizon and night’s quiet calm settled on the four witches and wizards who remained by the shore of the lake. Brilliant stars had filled the midnight sky and a giant silvery moon rose to replace the now sleeping sun. The lake was as still as a pane of glass and the trees held their branches like the arms of statues.

“We will build on this ground, in his memory. A school, in order that we may give to others what we have been given.” Rowena smiled gently at each of her companions in turn. “Godric, Helga, Salazar. We will become builders and teachers. We will preserve his legacy.”

[mugglemathdork]

Author:mugglemathdork
House: Ravenclaw!!!
Title:Unexpected
Topic: Resolution
Warnings: Fluff?
Word Count:498
“I’m pregnant.”

Those two words had thrown his life into a whirlwind – they alone had shattered the life his young mind had imagined. He was young, good-looking, powerful, and rich; he should have been enjoying all the free time he had now that Voldemort was gone. He had planned on having a rather peaceful life; hoping to never hear of Death Eaters, or secret Orders.

Instead, he had been taken by surprise at the announcement. Of course, he had done the “right thing” and offered to marry the mother; they were, after all, dating. That had been almost seven months ago. His first reaction had been blind rage; he had a fit, and even blamed her for not casting the proper Contraceptive Spell. A month later he proposed; she refused him. It took three more times for her to accept. They were yet to marry, but he knew she was the one. As he sat in the waiting room of the hospital, many thoughts jumbled his mind.

Was he ready?

He knew that he was too young to be a father. He wasn’t even sure he had wanted children in the first place. He had always known that he would eventually need an heir – but that had not been the reason for his blind fury upon receiving the news. No, in fact, the problem was the irrational fear that spread through him at the thought of being a father. He had a biological father, but not a model of what a father should be. Sure, he had some halfway decent father figures growing up – but he was still scared; scared that he wouldn’t be a good father. He feared becoming his own father – who never showed him love. He had hoped to ease himself into the thought of fatherhood as he grew older. In fact, he wasn’t sure if he knew how to love. He was vaguely familiar with the concept of love, sometimes wrongly equating it to a physical relationship – hence, the current situation, ironically enough. He was still learning to love.

“Mr. Malfoy, you can come in now. She’s asking for you.”

With fear clearly written in his eyes, he tentatively made his way to the room where the mother of his child had given birth after kicking him out.
As he walked down the halls of St. Mungo’s, he quietly thought of his dilemma: fatherhood.

He quietly entered the room, and made his way to the bed where a tired Hermione held the “bundle of love” that others often referred to.

With awe, he gasped. His worried expression softened as his gaze fell upon the miracle before him; his daughter. She was more beautiful that he had ever imagined. As he admired the tiny creature, he realized that a new feeling was enveloping his heart: love. At that moment, he knew he could love, and made a vow that a day wouldn’t pass when his little girl wouldn’t feel the love he held for her.

[kehribar]

Author: kehribar
House: Gryffindor
Title: Doing injustice
Topic: Resolution
Words: Exactly 500


Why didn’t I stop them?

This bitter question crossing over and over his mind, Remus gave up trying to concentrate on the Transfiguration book in his lap. He had left his friends by the lake to enjoy the summer sky, and came up to the common room. The scene he had witnessed was playing over and over in front of his eyes: Sirius saying he was bored, James seeing Snape and taunting him, Evans shouting at James, more bullying, and James letting go of Snape when noticing the despising looks Evans was throwing at him. Remus found himself considerably resented as he thought how inconsiderable his prefect bandage was to his own friends: neither James nor Sirius had taken a moment to think that he was a prefect and that they should respect that. Didn’t his bandage deserve respect, if not himself as a friend?

But is that really their fault that they don’t care? Asked a voice in his head. Hardly, Remus replied himself, rubbing his eyes. It’s my fault. I never attempted to stop them.

Remus felt weak. He felt weak against his friends, even more so than he was against anyone. But again, who had gone beyond all measures to become illegally Animagi so that he wouldn’t be alone during the full moons? Then who was he to tell them what to do, relying on his prefect bandage? It might give him some authority over the other students, but it was nothing but a piece of painted metal in front of his friends.

But still, he was made prefect. Wearing the bandage brought a great deal of responsibility. Carrying it meant that Dumbledore thought him capable of restraining his friends’ recklessness. How could he betray Dumbledore’s confidence in him? Thus Remus found himself stuck between Dumbledore and his friends. Not doing anything to stop his friends meant failing Dumbledore’s expectations, whereas trying to impose authority on his friends was ingratitude to them. What was he to do?

I’m being stupid, Remus thought, trying to settle his thoughts. This was not about making a choice. This was about doing the right thing. Had he done the right thing? No. He hadn’t. The right thing to do was to tell his friends to lay it off. And he knew they would listen to him. He had done them injustice by not trusting their respect for him. And he had done injustice to Snape, obviously, by not fulfilling his prefect duties. What would Dumbledore think if he knew? Remus shook his head angrily. He had done everything wrong.

But that was not going to happen again. He was not going to let the easier overcome the right. That was not why Dumbledore had admitted him to Hogwarts; that was not how he had wonderful friends. Next time, he was going to do the right thing.

Inwardly hoping that his new determination wouldn’t waver as soon as he faced his friends, he opened the Transfiguration book once again, and began studying.

[Sly Severus]

Author: Sly Severus
House: Slytherin
Title: Doing the Right Thing
Topic: Resolution
Warnings: None
Words: 471


Severus Snape felt nothing but disgust as he stared at himself in the mirror. His gangly hair hung with grease, and his dark eyes were red rimmed. He hadn’t slept in days. He didn’t deserve sleep, not after what he had done.

Sickened by the sight of himself, he turned away from the mirror. He could no longer bear to look at himself. He was nothing. There was no one who could forgive what he had done. He didn’t deserve forgiveness.

He allowed himself to fall to the floor. He had little energy to stand. He had not eaten since he betrayed her. Since he had marked her for death, he hadn’t been able to do much of anything.

He remembered how proud he had been that night at the Hog’s Head. He overheard a prophesy about his lord. For once, he would be able to report something useful to his master. He felt that he was well on his way to becoming a highly respected and high-ranked Death Eater. He no longer remembered why he wanted that for himself. There was no glory in it.

But it was not until a few days ago that he learned the consequences for his ignorance. The child of the prophesy had been found, and the Dark Lord was preparing to dispose of him. Severus had been called to him. He was the first to learn that his discovery at the Hog’s Head would lead to the deaths of the Potters and their newborn son.

Lily was going to die because of him. She didn’t deserve it. She was the one woman who had ever been descent to him. The one woman who stood up for him. The one woman who looked at him with something other than repulsion in her eyes. Lily Evans had never loved him, but at least she liked him, and that was more than he could say for any other woman. And now she was going to die, all because of him.

Severus could feel tears stinging the back of his eyes. This was completely unacceptable. Severus Snape did not cry. He was acting like a foolish a child. It was time for him to stop feeling sorry for himself and take action. Sitting on the floor and moping would do nothing to help Lily.

He forced himself to his feet, and looked into the mirror once more. He no longer felt repulsed, because he had made a decision. He was done being a slave to the Dark Lord. He was done being disgusted with himself. He was going to do the right thing. He was going to find a way to leave the Death Eaters. He was going to find a way to save Lily’s life. And he knew he could, after all, he was the Half-Blood Prince.

Author: Sly Severus
House: Slytherin
Title: His Destiny
Topic: Giving Back
Warnings: None
Words: 281

Tom Riddle sat alone in the Slytherin common room. It was late. All the other students had resigned to their dorm rooms hours earlier, but he was unable to sleep. He was left wondering how to handle information that had recently come to his attention.

For, he had recently learned that he was no ordinary Hogwarts student. He was in fact a descendant of one of the most powerful wizards to ever live; one of the wizards who founded this very school. He was indeed the heir of Salazar Slytherin.

But what could he do with this information? What should he do? He knew he was powerful. He had always known that, but he had never known what he was meant to do with his power. Now, all the sudden, it was beginning to make sense. He was the heir of Slytherin. He was meant to carry on the work of the great Slytherin.

Tom had spent many nights studying the ideals of his ancestor. Slytherin made many good points. Why were witches and wizards bowing down to silly Muggles? They could wipe them off the earth with a single spell. Why should wizard-kind live in fear of such insolent creatures?

He was beginning to realize his destiny. He was born to continue the work of the great Salazar Slytherin. He had been born with pure and noble blood. He had a responsibility because of that. It was his job to rescue wizards from their prison, to return purebloods to their rightful place in society. He was given the honor of being a Slytherin, and because of that he had to give back to the wizarding world; it was his destiny.

[FuzzyMuffins]

Author:FuzzyMuffins
House:HufflePuff
Title: A Breath of Sanity
Topic: Resolution
Warnings:None
Words:499 (Finally cut it down enough)




An eagle owl swooped gracefully through the window and landed softly on the desk. A hand grabbed the letter and slit it open.

Rufus Scrimgeour read the letter, his eyes getting narrower and narrower as they moved down the letter. Finally, he stood up and threw a handful of powder into the fire.

“Robards!”

A few seconds later, a spinning head appeared in the fireplace.

“Anything wrong Minister?” the new Head Auror asked. There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“Robards, there’s a fire on Maple Street. Almost certainly caused by Death Eaters. Firefighters can’t put it out, because it is magical. Send Proudfoot to sort it out,”

“But sir, Proudfoot is already in Azkaban, discussing the new guarding system,” Robards said politely.

Scrimgeour frowned. “All right. Send Williamson instead.”

“But he’s investigating the recent Muggle killing. The one near Willoughby,”

“Ah, yes, yes,” Scrimgeour muttered distractedly. “Tonks?”

“At Hogwarts, guarding the school,”

“Er….how about Dawlish?”

“Helping that village that Greyback attacked,”

Scrimgeour eyed Robards. “What Aurors are free right now?”

“None are, right now sir,” Robards replied. “I have my head up to here trying to keep in touch with them.

Scrimgeour stood up. His mane was ragged, and he had huge bags under his eyes.

“What’s the point?” he murmured

“Sorry?” Robards asked.

“What’s the point in fighting?”

Robards stared at the Minister of Magic incredulously. “Sir, what are you…”

“They have us outnumbered at least three-to-one. Any resistance only delays the inevitable,”s

“Rufus,” Robards said incredulously. All the formality dropped out of his voice. “Do you know what you’re saying?”

“Yes,” Scrimgeour said firmly. “And what more, I don’t regret it. At all.” He turned his back to Robards and stared out the window.

‘”I don’t remember the last time I went outside,” Scrimgeour said, more to himself to Rogers. “I mean really went outside. Smelled the air, looked at the trees. Took a little rest from life.”

“But the fire…” Robards started feebly. He had never seen the Minister act like this.

“I’ve put out fires before,” said Scrimgeour. “I’ve been putting out fires ever since I entered the Ministry. And they always come back. Always.”

Robards was eyeing the Minister with some fear in his eyes.

“Well, I’ve put out enough fires,” Scrimgeour said. “I’ve had it!”

He walked swiftly around the desk and, with a nod to Robards, out the door.

Robards stood there. After a moment of silence, he walked around the desk and took out a piece of parchment and a quill.

Dear Dawlish,

You’ve been promoted to Head Auror. Please stop by Maple Street to put out a magical fire set by Death Eaters, and then back here to discuss some items.

Signed,

Gawain Robards

Minister of Magic
Clutching the letter, the owl made another swoop back into the open air. Down below, Rufus Scrimgeour waved at it. He took a large breath and felt, for the first time in a long time, at peace with the world.

[GreyLady]

Author: GreyLady
House: Ravenclaw
Title: Breathing
Topic: Resolution
Warnings: Uber-angst? Oh, and a swear word.
Words: 253--rather short, isn't it *is sheepish*

Ginny couldn’t breathe.

She knew it wasn’t right, that he had manipulated her and that she shouldn’t feel this way—but she did.

She couldn’t get enough oxygen. It was as if a hole has been carved out of her chest, and the only thing that was keeping her from breaking into a million little pieces was the mantra that she whispered brokenly under her breath. She rocked back and forth, back and forth with her hands around her knees.

It’s not my fault, it was Tom, Dumbledore said it was, I’m not evil because I was his friend, it’s not my fault, it’s not, it’s not, none of it is my fault.

And then, like a stab in the heart--

It’s not my fault that he made me love him.

A small, raw sob was wrenched itself out of Ginny, and she nearly threw up in disgust as the shame rolled over her in waves. She had spent every day eagerly waiting, waiting and waiting to see his deceptively refined writing to appear offering sympathy, a bit of wit, a word…anything. She now realized it with sickening clarity: she couldn’t have broken away from him even if she had realized what was going on.

I will never let anyone do that to me again.

I will be strong.

I will live.

Ginny took an experimental breath, deep, filling —and found that it satisfied her starved lungs. Tom could go to hell. She sat up straighter and lifted her chin defiantly.

Never again.

[crazy_purple_hp_freak]

I posted a question in Question Corner about my character, but haven't had a reply yet. I don't want to miss the deadline, so I'm posting my drabble anyway. The character is Mrs Cole...I hope that's okay.

Author: crazy_purple_hp_freak
House: Slytherin
Title: Coming Home
Topic: Giving Back
Warnings: None
Words: 494

Five o’clock on New Year’s Eve, and it was getting dark. Megan Cole was walking as fast as she could without slipping on the icy street. Light sleet had begun to fall, and it was bitterly cold. Megan’s toes were frozen in her boots, and her thin woollen scarf was already soaked with snow. She hugged two warm bags full of hot buns and bread rolls close to her chest. It was comforting to know that she could go home to such luxury.

Home. The orphanage. It wasn’t the comforting refuge where one’s family lived. No – life was hard there; you had to pull your weight, do the washing, the cleaning, the cooking, run on errands in the cold. But ultimately it was worth it. Mrs Talbot, the Matron, had trained them well, and the children never went hungry, were perfectly content, in a way.

Megan stopped at the side of the road, waiting patiently as an elegant carriage passed, thick blinds shielding the occupants from view. She used to dream about those carriages, wishing and hoping that some day, a kindly lady would adopt her, whisk her off to a life in the lap of luxury. But she was old enough to see sense now, and she was content living at home. Someday, she even hoped to help others like herself.

The sleet was fiercer now, and Megan pulled up her hood, dashing the last few yards to the orphanage’s front steps.

A figure was crouched at the foot of the gate; a small, thin face framed by bedraggled hair gazed up at Megan briefly.

She stopped, wondering what she should do. The sleet was getting heavier, the buns were getting cold, and Mrs Talbot would not be pleased if she was late home.

“Pl – please.” The figure shifted slightly, and Megan was astonished to see that it was a young girl, barely older than herself. The girl’s skin was tinted blue with cold, thin rags barely covered her body, a large bump protruded from her stomach; she was pregnant.

“P – please help me.” The girl lifted her hands briefly, but dropped them quickly as if she hadn’t even this much energy remaining in her weak body.

Megan stood, torn. She knew that the orphanage was already overcrowded; they couldn’t really take another one in. There had been a recent outbreak of flu, and many of the staff were still in bed, recovering; there weren’t enough people to carry out a childbirth. She could take the girl to the hospital, but the journey would probably kill her.

The girl tried to stand, her numb blue fingers desperately grasping the railings. Megan could see that this was her last chance; this girl had lived a life ten times harder than Megan’s. Yet here she was, not giving up, still hopeful, even at the brink of death.

It was New Year’s Eve…one more person wouldn’t hurt.

Megan opened the door, and let the girl in.

ooh *has another one!* :D

Author: crazy_purple_hp_freak
House: Slytherin
Title: A part of the family
Topic: Resolution
Warnings: None
Words: 498

“Eez this all?” she asked, a look of pure disdain on her face.

The room was small. Perhaps some would have called it ‘cosy’, but to Fleur Delacour it was just another symbol of the poverty that she was about to marry into.

“Zere eez no sunlight! I cannot see zee trees!” She was exasperated now; surely her wants were only minimal? They had always been taken for granted in the House of Delacour, and in the ‘Palace of Beauxbatons’. But the Burrow was no palace, no place for a princess like her.

“Eet is too cold for such thin sheets!” She sighed. At home she had always had whatever she wanted; this was different.

“I’m sorry Fleur! This is all we have, I’m afraid.” Her soon-to-be mother in law looked both sorry and slightly annoyed, yet Fleur detected a slight hint of embarrassment in her tone. “You’ll just have to make do.” She hurried off again, to raid the ironing cupboard, to search and search for more sheets, better linen; things that she knew they didn’t have.

Fleur was left alone, in her new room. She knew that not all of the family approved of Bill’s match. Perhaps they thought she was too different, that she’d never fit in…well, they were probably right.

It room was all right really; she could tell that Molly had worked hard to make it as homey as possible; she didn’t need to really. On the quaint little bedside cabinet, Fleur had placed her favourite picture. It was one of her, with Bill. She looked at it now; she gazed at herself, her face a picture of pure happiness, laughing as she stood close to the one she loved. Bill, he was the one she wanted to be with. She knew that.

So did it really matter what the room was like? Did it really matter that it was a bit dark, a bit cold? If she was going to be part of the family, she guessed she would have to live like the rest of them. She could do that…she wasn’t a complete snob.

She didn’t need a bigger room really; the small room was cosy, easier to clean, better. She had her own blankets for when it was cold, Molly and Arthur could keep theirs, they’d probably need it. The sunlight was outside, on the trees, she didn’t need it in here as well.

“Fleur!” It was Molly again. “I’ve found some more blankets for you, if you really want them…and I’m sorry about the shade, we’ll get you some nice blinds, and we can paint the room a brighter colour. Is that what you have in France? We could – “

Fleur crossed the room, put her hand on Molly’s shoulder.

“No, don’t bother. You’ve worked hard enough already. Thanks for making me feel so welcome, like part of the family.”

And she was going to act like family, starting from now.

“Come on, I’ll help you with dinner downstairs.”

[Pondering]

Author: Pondering
House: Ravenclaw
Title: Dying Inside
Topic: Giving Back
Warnings: Metions of character death
Words: 370

I don’t know how to comfort you. I don’t know how to tell you that everything will be all right. I can’t, because that would be a lie. It’s not going to be okay. Ginny is gone, and you know it.

You’ve done your job, you’ve saved the world, but what is there left now? Nothing. No Ginny is there to welcome you home, no young toddler clinging onto her legs.

And I wonder how easily it could have been me. It could have been my girlfriend, my happiness who had died, if Lord Voldemort had chosen to come after me. But no, Neville Longbottom is just sitting beside you, wondering if anything he can say could make it better.

It’s exactly three years now, since Ginny died, and the pain still won’t fade away for you, will it? You’re safe now, but you have no hope for the future.

You may have lived through the war, but can’t you see it’s killing you inside? I don’t know how to comfort you, because all the words of comfort I can utter come back to saying how lucky I am, how lucky I am that there’s going to be a warm meal waiting for me when I get back home, that there’s going to be a little one-year-old happily awaiting the return of her father, so he can tuck her in and read her a bedtime story.

I’m lucky, and I know it, so why can’t I use that luck to help you get better? I put an arm around your shoulders and reassure you that things will improve, that you might feel happy soon.

You flash me a sad smile from underneath your lopsided glasses. It’s the first time I’ve tried to encourage you to live again, and I feel bad for not doing it before. Everyone else has tried, Ron, Hermione, Luna…but none of them have gotten through to you. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because Ron and Hermione are happily married now, and you don’t want to invade in that.

Luna is known to be a bit alarming in her cheering methods.

“I’ll try,” you say, smiling.

It is the best I can hope for, for now.

[kumydabookworm]

Author: kumydabookworm
House: Gryffindor
Title: Fortune's Fickle Face
Topic: Giving Back
Warnings: None
Word Count: 338

"Help me."

She never expected him, of all people to act like this. Hair tousled, skin dappled with dangerous purple shadows, lips close to bleeding. She wished he had been this way sooner.

She spared a glance for his hand, nails black under the edges, dirt creased into the grooves of his palm, and her mouth twisted up in a near smile. For years, he had been so different.

When she danced with him, he had led to perfection, hands at the waist, head held straight, robes impeccably starched. But she had wanted this. She had wanted hands running over dress robes, fiery looks, ravaging kisses. She had wanted need.

Through all those years at Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy had scorned her. When she was at her most vulnerable, he sneered and laughed. Yet, he hadn't had the kindness to set her free from the heartless hold of innocent love - he had accepted her pathetic gestures when it pleased him, making her believe she had a chance.

Now, he stood before her, nearly begging, so desperate. She wished he had needed her sooner, so that she could take some pleasure in this. As she turned to walk away, she felt a hand grasp the silken folds of her dress.

She barely caught a gasp in the depths of her throat. Fingers searching for skin, nails scratching the softness of her calf, tracing wild patterns into her skin. Fiery pain leapt from the welts straight into her heart, and she felt her pulse throb beneath his wanton fingers.

She froze.

She had everything she wanted. She had her name, her pride, her money. Draco had nothing but darkness and dirt - danger and the Dark Mark branding his skin.

"Please, Pansy."

If her luck ever ran out, she would fall - like him - and have nothing of her own. She could have been him, even now. But if she helped him...perhaps his need could keep her warm at night - even if fortune turned its face away.

"Alright."

Author: kumydabookworm
House: Gryffindor
Title: Fear
Topic: Resolution
Warnings: None
Word Count: 388

Lavendar Brown watches the shut trapdoor, wishing the staircase would come out and everything would be alright again.

"Professor Trelawney?" she calls timidly.

No response. Before, there would have been an airy "Hello, Lavendar," or perhaps a whisper of a rustling shawl, but now...nothing. Lavendar bit her lip. Yesterday, Parvati would have been here with her. All of the Gryffindors would have been - Ron with his gorgeous red hair, Dean with that beautiful brown skin, and of course Harry Potter with those startling eyes. Yesterday, she would have brought flowers, because it wasn't a full moon and therefore picking flowers wasn't bad luck.

Today...there was no professor, there were no flowers, and no students crowded the corridor. She remembered the way the peaceful woman had screamed in front of the entire school. She remembered the look on that horrid Umbridge's face when Dumbledore kept her in Hogwarts.

She sighed. Professor Trelawney had been a friend. She, Parvati, and Lavendar herself had gathered around tea cups, attempting to find their futures. For Lavendar, it had always been about love. Parvati had only thought of fame. But Professor...why, the professor had looked and looked only for death.

Lavendar remembered the way Sibyll - "Never call me that in public, girls, or I'll get in trouble" - had spoken about death, her tone hushed but her eyes deathly, deathly afraid. She remembered the way Sibyll hid behind portents and omens, nearly never leaving her room - where symbols and rituals kept her safe.

Sibyll - Professor Trelawney - was always afraid.

Suddenly, Lavendar remembered how she used to walk three circles around her bed for good luck, or pull the petals off daisies to make a boy love her. She remembered the way Parvati began to look at her strangely as she did her rituals.

She remembered the constant fear she felt when the boys teased her. She thought of the tea leaves she read afterward to see if the boys truly didn't like her - remembered changing a leaf shape from a club to a star, just so the leaves would affirm that they liked her.

Lavendar slowly turned back to climb down the stairway and back toward the Common Room. Tomorrow, she would give Sibyll flowers, and leave the North Tower forever.

Tomorrow, she would be less afraid.

[MithrilQuill]

Sorry for the slight delay, but the results are in!


There were so many good ones this time and all of you did an excellent job, but here are the winners!

*drumroll*

First Place:

Breathing by GreyLady


Second Place:

Colorful by Mind over Matter


Third Place:
Fear by Kumydabookworm

And I've got a couple of special mentions this time around:

Breath of Sanity by FuzzyMuffins
and
Preserve his Legacy by myownmuggle

As usual the thread will be reopened for you guys to discuss the drabbles etc.

[kehribar]

Okay. Seems like no one has anything to say about these drabbles. I don't either, at least, not about other drabbles. But I have something increadibly embarrassing to say about my own drabble.

Oh dear... I can't belive I used bandage instead of badge. This. Is. So. Embarrassing.

I feel so bad.... soo bad... *sniff*

Ayse edits this almost a year later: I can't believe that so much time has passed since I posted that very first drabble of mine. A very, very late thank you, Mithril. :)

[MithrilQuill]

lol! Don't worry about it, it happens to everyone...(we can always blame it on the keyboard)...I thought your drabble was pretty good actually, and you characterized Remus very nicely.