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Thread: A Goatily Different April Challenge

  1. #1
    Wizengamot Hufflepuff
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    A Goatily Different April Challenge

    Hullo

    Carmerta, Hestiana and all t’other barmaids ‘ave upped their sticks ‘n closed their pub for the time being. Gone robe shopping, or some such witchly rubbish, so if you want a drink, you’ll ‘ave to come in ‘ere.

    Who am I? Crollaforth Bumblebore, but most people call me ‘Oi, you!’.

    What you waiting for? Sit down, then and I’ll get you a drink. Only got Firewhisky, though. No call for that Butterbeer muck in this establishment.

    So I’m s’posed to set a competition, right?

    Uhm .... let me think. What do I like? What would get yer writing?


    Write a drabble about goats.


    Yeah, that’s it. Oh, and include Potter (that’s ‘Arry, not ‘is dad or kids) or one of his classmates in the drabble.

    Got that!

    Rules:
    Uhm, I’m not one for all that book learning rubbish, so I don’t care about all that SPaG rubbish, but my lovely assistant Jonesy-the-Goat, is one of them there beta-readers, so she’ll kick yer backsides if you muck things up. (She keeps bleatin’ about Finnigan or Finnegan, or some such rubbish).

    Keep yer drabbles short – no more than 500 words.

    Points
    5 points participation
    5 points if you make me snort
    10 points if I chortle
    15 points if I guffaw
    20 points if yer a Hufflepuff. (Not really. Crollaforth has been reprimanded for this)


    Crollaforth will NOT be judging this challenge as he's barely able to read and thus the points will be for third, second and first place. You may make me smile, you may make me weep. You are not allowed to bore me or Hestiana.



    PHP Code:
    [B]Name:[/B]
    [
    B]House:[/B]
    [
    B]Title: [/B]
    [
    B]Warnings: (nothing muckyme goats are sensitive)[/B]
    [
    B]Ratings: (GillywaterButterbeerFirewhisky)[/B]
    [
    B]A/N: [/B
    Last edited by Equinox Chick; 04-08-2013 at 12:23 PM.
    I'm a BARMAID. I write. I drabble. I duel. I poet. I'm a BADGER!!!

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  2. #2
    Seventh Year Hufflepuff
    Protecting Scabbers from Crookshanks
    hestiajones's Avatar
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    Name: HJ
    House: HufftheHaffalump
    Title: Baa.
    Warnings: Extreme Sexiness
    Ratings: Firewhisky
    A/N: I better win this. (EDIT: Yer a Hufflepuff. Yer bound to)

    Once, there was a magical goat with a curly little tail. It dwelt at the bottom-most portion of a land of tall silvery grass and undulating, but smooth features. Its sleek and shiny coat was often trimmed by its owner, who boasted of it as his pride and joy.

    Unlike other goats, even the one that gambolled behind the Hog’s Head, this magical goat didn’t bleat or prance about. Its silent sneer was enough to secure its fame and glory in the wizarding world.

    And, no, this goat wasn’t Draco Malfoy.

    It was Goatee, the one and only offspring of Igor Karkaroff.
    Last edited by Equinox Chick; 04-01-2013 at 11:32 AM.

  3. #3
    Clone Club Hufflepuff
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    Name: Lilypod
    House: Huffelump
    Title: Meeting My Goats
    Warnings: Hilarity
    Ratings: Butterbeer
    A/N: I'd better win to take the cup back from those pesky Slytherins.

    Once there lived a woman with a glorious head of hair who often went by the name Crolleta. She quite liked goats. She liked their marvelous little beards and their little horns that sprouted off the top of their heads and the noise that they made. She owned three hundred and forty-two goats, and all of them were equally awesome.

    One day, when Crolleta was meandering amongst her goats in search of a hairbrush that she was quite sure Number 215 had eaten, she spotted in the distance another voluptous head of hair and a dropped jaw. These two disembodied body parts belonged to one Hermione Jean Granger, who rushed towards the mud patch of three hundred and forty-two goats and one Crolleta.

    “There are so many!” Hermione breathed. “My most favourite of animals.”

    Crolleta was shocked. She was sure that with all their similarities, she and Hermione would soon be the best of friends. Never mind that old Nymphadora who had once dropped by. No.

    And when Crolleta turned back, Hermione looked out into the distance as if about to deliver a line of the utmost importance.

    “They are…totally awesome.”
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  4. #4
    Wizengamot Hufflepuff
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    Goodness, you have one day off and that silly old fool Crollaforth takes over.

    *sigh*

    Well, well, what have we here, a drabble competition about goats. Not what I was planning, at all, and yet ... hmmm, maybe I'll leave it up for a while.

    Might have to tweak those points. Crollaforth has a thing about Hufflepuffs, but we can't show bias in this trade. Feel free to enter, anyone else, for this comp will now close on 30th April, 10 pm BST.

    But if goats and Harry's classmates are not your thing, then please pop your head into the Three Broomsticks a little later today, and they'll be something else for you.
    I'm a BARMAID. I write. I drabble. I duel. I poet. I'm a BADGER!!!

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  5. #5
    Fifth Year Slytherin
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    Name: Georgia
    House: Hissy Hissy
    Title: The Sunday Roast
    Warnings: Character death? and a bit of AU
    Ratings: Gillywater, or maybe butterbeer because of the death.
    A/N:

    It was Sunday morning. The Potters were just sitting down for brunch. Ginny had spent an unusual amount of time preparing the meal, so it was bound to be good.

    Harry took a bit out of some delicious looking roast that had been placed in front of him. “Mmm, this is really good Ginny. One of your best.”

    She smiled at him. “I’m glad you like it. Goat meat is more expensive than beef, but I guess it was worth the few extra sickles.”

    Harry spit out the mouthful he had just taken. “Did you say goat meat?” He pushed his plate away. “Then I can’t eat it.”
    “I didn’t know you were a vegetarian Dad,” said James. He sounded mildly interested.

    “I’m not,” answered Harry, his voice distressed. “I guess you kids just never knew that Aberforth Dumbledore’s Animagus form was a goat. It is quite possible that we are eating his remains.” He motioned for the family to stand. “Let’s bless his body.”

    “Rest in peace, Aberforth Dumbledore,” they all said in unison.

    The family sat back down and began to gorge themselves once again on the goaty roast.
    Georgia Duels!Georgia Drabbles!Georgia writes poetry!

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  6. #6
    Fourth Year Ravenclaw
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    1000timesingoldenink's Avatar
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    Name: 1000timesingoldenink
    House: Ravenclaw
    Title: Goatilocks and the Three Puffskeins
    Warnings: A goat (!)
    Ratings: Gillywater
    Author’s note: My drabble contains three Puffs, thus counteracting my House. *cackles*


    Once upon a time, in a forest where the trees are all brilliant beige and the ferns grow at splendidly obtuse angles, there lived a family of Puffskeins. They spent their days in a simple abode tucked away into a thick patch of bushes, merrily playing Exploding Snap and knitting left socks. Occasionally, however, they left their home to go have a picnic in a lovely green meadow, talking and eating while their pet curled up and dozed in the sunlight.

    There also lived a goat, named Goatilocks, for her curly fur. Goatilocks was known throughout the forest for her cookery. She owned a popular restaurant that served delicious dishes like spinach and plum noodles, salted zucchini bread in warm coffee, and duck soup with animal crackers.

    But Goatilocks realized that something was missing. She lacked the spice that would perfect her dishes and make her a true gourmet chef: blond nostril hair.

    Unfortunately, Goatilocks didn’t know where to buy such a thing; not in the forest anyway. So she decided to leave the forest and travel far and wide seeking blond nostril hair. As she walked through a meadow, on her way out of the forest, she noticed something in the grass. She picked it up. To her astonishment, it was a blond nostril hair.

    She set out to look for the animal whose hair it was; surely they lived nearby. Lunchtime and suppertime came and went; she grew hungry, but she continued searching. Finally, as the magenta moon began to rise, she chanced upon a wooden house.

    Goatilocks knocked on the door, but no answer came. Desperate to find the source of the nostril hair, she decided to enter anyway. She opened the door, immediately seeing the figures of three Puffskeins asleep in their beds.

    She crossed over to the nearest bed and examined Papa Puffskein. After a careful look, she concluded that his nostril hair was black; unsuitable as a spice. She moved on to Mama Puffskein, whose nostril hair, upon inspection, turned out to be ginger. She leaned over Teenage Puffskein, staring expectantly, but his nostril hair was brown.

    Goatilocks was crushed. She turned to leave, hot goat tears stinging her eyes, but just then, her hoof bumped into something—a creature, sleeping on the floor.

    She bent down to get a better look at the Puffskeins’ pet. It was a strange sort of creature, with pale skin, light blonde fur on its head, and a sneering nose. She checked its nostrils, hardly daring to hope.

    They were full of blond hair! She elatedly plucked out hairs until she had enough to last for years. Then she hurried back off to her restaurant, munching on a few of the hairs as she went.

    Goatilocks’ restaurant became a bigger success than ever, and soon she was world-famous as the best gourmet chef alive.

    And once every few years for the rest of his life, Draco Malfoy woke up in the morning with inexplicably sore nostrils.
    Last edited by 1000timesingoldenink; 04-07-2013 at 03:07 AM.

    -on an extended hiatus (though may resurface with a poem or two occasionally)-
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  7. #7
    Ebil Minion Ravenclaw
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    BrokenPromise's Avatar
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    Name: BrokenPromise
    House: Ravenclaw
    Title: The Gift
    Warnings: Ridiculously deep meanings (and implied sexual situations)
    Ratings: Gillywater
    A/N: I hope this brings a tear to your eye, even if it doesn’t make you laugh. And it was exactly 500 words in MSWord.

    On his first birthday, Teddy Lupin found himself the owner of a perfectly ordinary grey and white nanny goat. Teddy loved the goat more than anything in the world. Andromeda named her Felicity, for how happy she made Teddy.

    Andromeda had no idea where it had come from. Every day she would milk it and ask it, but she never understood the bleated reply.

    Then one day, Teddy visited the Burrow with his godfather. Bill and Fleur were back from France, and Teddy, now aged six, could not prevent Victoire from scoring past him.
    When they arrived home, Harry and Teddy found Andromeda absolutely distraught. Felicity was missing. The three of them searched frantically for hours, but to no avail. She had vanished.

    That night, Teddy couldn’t sleep. He knew that Felicity was out there somewhere, alone and lost. “Please come back,” he whispered into his pillow. “I miss you. I love you more than anything in the world.”

    In the morning, Andromeda found the goat back in her stall.

    ~*~*~

    Fifteen years later, Teddy Lupin proposed to Victoire Weasley in the living room of the Burrow. Meanwhile, Andromeda fretted. Once again, Felicity had disappeared. That night, Teddy cried himself to sleep. He had gained the love of his life, but had lost his beloved goat.

    Victoire’s wedding was held at the Burrow, and like her parents’, her nuptials did not go entirely according to plan. No-one exactly spoke against the marriage, but Teddy’s missing goat (now a little plumper than when she had disappeared) bleated halfway down the aisle before Teddy swept her off her hooves.

    “I missed you so much, Felicity,” he said. “I love you more than anything in the world. Both of you,” he quickly added, as a murderous scowl crossed his bride’s face.

    ~*~*~

    After the party, Teddy wandered the garden, trying to clear his thoughts, when he saw an old man standing not too far away. The old man was petting two goats, and talking to them as if he understood their bleating.

    Teddy approached him cautiously, although he somehow knew that the man was a friend.

    “Excuse me, Sir, but what are you doing with my goat?”

    Upon hearing his voice, Felicity ran to Teddy and nuzzled her head against his leg. The man turned too, and the first things Teddy noticed were his striking blue eyes.

    “I’m introducing her to your wedding present,” he replied bluntly.

    The man clicked his tongue. Another goat strutted up behind Felicity.

    “His name is Alexander, the defender. He was my own, but now he is yours. Love him as you have loved Felicity, and he will protect you as she has brought you happiness.”

    ~*~*~

    Two weeks later, Teddy saw the man in the newspaper. Aberforth Dumbledore’s obituary was nowhere near as long and grand as his brother’s had been.

    That night, Felicity and Alexander became the proud parents of three kids: two doelings, Thea and Charis, and a grey buckling with bright blue eyes. Teddy named him Aberforth.
    [@Bannermaking] [@Poetry] [@Writing] [@Drabbling] [@Duelling]

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  8. #8
    Sixth Year Slytherin
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    Name: Oregonian
    house: Slytherin
    Title: The Goat's Beard
    Warnings: None
    Ratings: Gillyflower
    A/N: I cannot write broad humor, so this piece is thoughtful. I am counting all hyphenated constructions, even "Jack-go-to-bed-at-noon", as one word.

    Between the completion of final exams and the posting of results their first year, Neville and his classmates had seven warm, sunny days of freedom to wander the grounds of Hogwarts and do whatever struck their fancy.

    Neville gravitated back to the greenhouses. Professor Sprout was there doing chores, but she greeted Neville cheerily and they chatted about their summer plans as she carried wooden trays of freshly-cleaned hand tools into her office. Neville offered to help.

    He looked around her office as they stacked the trays in racks, and he noticed a clear glass vase near her desk holding a half dozen dried stalks of some plant topped with large, lacy puffballs. They were reminiscent of dandelion seedheads, but about three inches in diameter, more delicate in appearance, less dense.

    He stared at them for a few minutes and then said, "Professor Sprout, what are those?"

    She looked over her shoulder at him to see what he was talking about.

    "The things in the vase? Those are seedheads of Tragopogon. 'Goat's beard' is its common name."

    "They're beautiful."

    "Yes, that's why I keep them there."

    "Where do they come from?"

    "They grow around here, in meadows and along roadsides."

    "Why haven't I seen them before?"

    "The plants bloom in early summer, but they're not very showy -- yellow flowers like dandelions on knee-high stems. And on sunny days they're open only in the morning; by noon they close up again. That's why they're also called 'Jack-go-to-bed-at-noon'. If you want to find them, you have to go out early. It's not noon yet. Do you want to look for some?"

    "Yes."

    "We have time. Let's go."

    They left the greenhouse and headed for the road leading towards Hogsmeade, looking intently from side to side. Neville hoped they would find a goat's beard plant before reaching the gate.

    Suddenly Professor Sprout stopped. "There's one," she said, pointing to a yellow aster-like flower atop a stem with thin bluish-green leaves like coarse grass blades. "Study it carefully so that you can recognize it again. The seedhead will develop later."

    "That will be after I have left for summer holiday."

    "You can probably find some where you live. But the seeds don't stay on the stalk for very long. The wind detaches them and they float away on their little umbrellas."

    "Oh." Neville was disappointed.

    "But if you get up early when the air is still, before the winds have disturbed them, you can use a sticking charm to keep the seedheads intact. That's what I did. Do you know a sticking charm?"

    Neville shook his head.

    "Let me show you the one I use. You hold your wand like this and say Adhero. Try it."

    Neville picked up two twigs and successfully stuck them together to form an X. A broad smile spread across his face. "I'll find some this summer near my house and preserve them with the Adhero charm and make a bouquet for my grandmother, like yours."

    "She'll like that."

  9. #9
    Seventh Year Gryffindor
    Being Chased by Singing Dwarves with Valentines
    Maple_and_PheonixFeather's Avatar
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    Name: Maple_and_PheonixFeather
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: BLA!
    Warnings: (nothing mucky, me goats are sensitive) Drinking
    Ratings: (Gillywater, Butterbeer, Firewhisky) Butterbeer
    A/N: AKA : I blame Ellie.

    "Keep 'em coming, Aberforth!" Seamus called from across the room. "It's not every day my best friend here gets married!" He took another swig from his firewhiskey as he flung his arm around Dean's shoulder. "And to a very beautiful woman at that!"

    Dean chinked glasses with his friend and drowned the rest of his drink. "What about another one, Aberforth," he said, sending his table back to the counter where Aberforth was scowling at what could only be the ruckus in his fine establishment.

    ***

    Dean was crouched down, holding himself up against a wall, a goat to his right to keep him from falling over. Really, a goat wasn't a great solution, but it was the only thing there, and goats could be real good listeners when they wanted to be.

    "She's just so beautiful, you know?" Dean told his goat.

    "Bla!" said the goat.

    "Just the way her chestnut hair falls in her face and the way her eyes shine brightly. You know, what it's like, don't you Seamus?"

    "Bla!"

    "Wait, sorry, you're not Seamus, he's my best friend. You're ... actually I don't know your name."

    Suddenly, a hand grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him up.

    "All right there, that's enough talking to my goat," the man said.

    Dean fell against the man. "My world is spinning, I don't think I can stand. I'm just so happy, and so drunk..."

    And with that, Dean's world fell into black, only to be brightened the next morning by a splitting headache and the smell of goat on shirt.
    GRYFFINDOR PRIDE!
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  10. #10
    Wizengamot Hufflepuff
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    Thank you very much for entering.

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    I'm a BARMAID. I write. I drabble. I duel. I poet. I'm a BADGER!!!

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