WEEK SEVEN ~ EVIL PROMPTS!
This week the prompts were set by the brawlers for each other - and you can see just how evil the last three standing truly are. When you read the drabbles and make your decision, you must take into consideration the prompts set, and how well you think the drabbler wrote for that particular prompt.
Finally, you need to vote for your TWO favourite drabbles and your TWO least favourite drabbles.
Voting will close on Sunday, 7th July, 3PM BST
Here we go, then!
Title: Nothing Left Unsaid
Word Count: 500
Rating/Warnings: 1st-2ndyears; Mild Profanity
A/N: The song lyrics in italics are from Moon by Foals. The title is also taken from the lyrics.
Write a song fic completely in dialogue. Use any song you like, but it must reflect the setting. You may either write a two, or three way dialogue, using only these characters:
Mrs. Black (Sirius' Mother)
Now I see you, trouble,
It's coming up ahead.
Black dogs running through the fields,
They're dripping red.
“Kreacher, is that you?”
“Who’s there? Come into the light so I can see who has disturbed my peace.”
“How dare you speak to me with such petulance! I am the lady of this house. I, Walburga, from the most noble and ancient house of Black.”
“You are no lady, but I shall come into the light because I want you to look me in the eye and know exactly what you have done.”
“You. What are you doing here, you filthy, disgusting creature? Get out of my house! How dare you stand there? Scum of the earth, get out!”
“Or else? You can’t hurt me, you can’t hurt me the way you hurt your family.”
“What do you mean? I did the best for my family. I raised my child to cherish the heritage of his ancestors, and he honoured our family to the very end.”
“Child? Just one, Walburga?”
“How dare you address me—”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Yes, I had one child.”
“I think you had more than one—”
“—only he was never good enough for you, was he? He defied your wishes, he dishonoured your family so you struck him off. You burned him away just like you burn everything you screech at from that infernal portrait.”
“How dare you! Kreacher!”
“Kreacher cannot hear you, Walburga. It’s just you and me for a few more minutes, and then I’ll leave you to your peace
as you like to call it.”
“Why are you laughing?”
“I’m laughing because I’m usually rather quiet. I don’t feel like being quiet today, though. My best friend is dead, you see. You knew him. You gave birth to him. He was your other
child, but you killed him.”
“I had no other child.”
“Yes! You did! You had a son, and his name was Sirius, and he was brilliant.”
“I had no other child.”
“WOULD YOU SHUT UP. You had two children, and you poisoned them so much that you killed them. Sirius was one of the strongest people I have ever known, and yet he was the weakest man because of you. It is all your fault.
“Stop! I had no other child!”
“Do you really feel nothing? Or are you repeating yourself to stop the guilt? Perhaps if you don’t admit Sirius was your son you don’t have to grieve for him in your own twisted, little mind. You killed my best friend with your poisoned words and this bloody, poisonous home.”
“It is your fault, not mine.”
your fault! You
poisoned my boy! You
destroyed him! That man who called himself Sirius Black was no son of mine. My son died the day he befriended filth like you.”
“So you do feel it.”
“I think you do.”
“I had no other child.”
“Don’t you dare turn away from me! Come back here! I had no other child! Everything you say is a lie!”
The world is quiet,
There is nothing left unsaid,
A million images, a million captured, a million dead.
Title: In Mourning
Word count: 500
Ratings/Warnings: 1st-2nd yrs; depression, vampires, Victorian era (oh no!)
A/N: Isla Black lived during the Victorian era, so I used her as my focal point. In context, this is right after she was blasted off the tapestry for marrying a Muggle. I imagine that she just came from an argument with her family, and her husband happens to be at their new home, but she just needs time to think.
Write a dark/angst story set in the Victorian era. At some point a mythical creature must appear and play a prominent role in the drabble.
It was a dark night in Victorian England and the streets were empty of any pedestrians and travelers, except for a lone woman dressed in a long, hooded cloak. She was moving rather stately across the gravel, but her head bowed with depression. Her trail meandered, yet she still managed to keep up that regal appearance. At last, she slowly eased herself onto a bench near the forest, drawing her cloak closer with her slim hands.
She was rather young, but the expression in her heavy-lidded eyes told of centuries of anguish. Her melancholic repose was rather heavy for the woman. With tears, she glanced up at the dark, cloudy sky.
“Merlin,” she whispered. “Merlin, save me.”
She reached into a small pocket in her cloak and pulled out a silver chain bearing a single charm in the shape of a four-point star. A sapphire lay within its center, glinting from some unseen light. With a sad smile, the woman turned over the charm and squinted at the inscription on the back, though she already knew what it said:
My Beloved Isla
Closing her fingers around the charm, she began to sob.
An ominous foreboding suddenly stole through her, and she snapped her head up. In a swift motion, she drew out a long stick and lit it up with a flick. The night around her receded from the glow, but nothing was there. However, the lady did not put down her guard.
A slight wind brushed her, and she could swear she heard the sound of fluttering wings. A chill settled into her bones, and a sort of recognition came over her.
“Come out, cretinous and vile creature,” she commanded imperially.
From the shadows, a large shape appeared, strangely looking like an overgrown bat. As it neared the glow surrounding the woman, she could see that it was a man, spreading out his cloak in a wing-like fashion, and bearing fangs.
“Isla…” he hissed. The lady coolly gazed at him, the wand in her hand at the ready for any sudden moves.
“I can see your heart, Isla. I can see how twisted and mournful it is.” His words were accented strangely, and he spoke them in a dead whisper that struck straight into her mind.
Isla stayed frozen in her combat position, but she averted her eyes from the red gleam sparking in the creature’s irises.
“Isla, join me. It will vanquish all those fears and lamentations.”
Her hand still clutched the charm, and in a moment of terror, she squeezed it hard and turned to run.
She uttered a soft scream, and closed her eyes. “Robert. Robert
!” Again, she squeezed the charm.
The creature laughed evilly. “Come to me, Isla. It is my will.”
“NO!” she screamed. “I am a Black, and I will not follow you!”
She waved her wand, and the vampire vanished. It was a while before Isla left, still clutching the charm as though it were the only thing in the world.
Title: Last Chance
Word Count: 499
Rating/Warning: 3rd-5th year, mention of violence
On Vernon and Petunia’s wedding day, Vernon has an unexpected encounter with an odd man called Severus Snape. There doesn’t have to be a romantic undertone to this encounter. That is up to you.
It was a sunny cloudless day in Little Whinging in the midst of spring. In a small church on the edge of town a Mr. Vernon Dursley and Ms. Petunia Evans were to be married at noon. The guest list was set, the white tents pitched, and the flower bouquets fresh and vibrant.
But one man stood alone in the shadows on the edge of the little copse that abutted the church. Severus Snape had never been a fan of weddings. To him, marriage could make a fraud out of the best of people. His parents were proof of that.
Yet as Severus stood in the shadows looking in on the bright and expectant faces of the arriving guests, a small yearning grew within him. There was only one person he would have married, and she had married another two days before.
Severus felt anger and regret lance through him like cold lightening. He clenched his hand tightly around a dainty, silver locket he held in it. The engraved surface left a fierce red mark on his palm. It was his heart in his hand, and, like his aching heart, it had left a mark on him.
Surely she will be here. It is her sister’s wedding, Severus thought to himself.
He scanned the crowd of guests as they streamed into the church. Watching them made him hate the state of marriage even more, and yet that small part of him that brought him there kept him fixed in place.
Severus heard footsteps to the right of him. He turned his head, and saw a portly young man with a large walrus mustache ambling towards him. He was dressed in a black suit that seemed ready to burst at the seams, and his face was flushed with excitement and self importance. Maybe he would know if Lily had arrived yet. Severus stepped out of the shadows.
“Excuse me. Do you know you if a Lily Evans has arrived yet?” Severus asked. He still couldn’t get himself to say her new name.
The man huffed in annoyance before he answered, “There is no such person, or riffraff like her kind here. Thank you very much.”
“Riffraff? Her kind? And what do you mean by that?” Severus responded curtly.
“I mean my future wife and I do not want any of your kind here at our wedding, which includes her sister. Now leave before I call the police,” the man responded. Severus itched to curse the worm, but he swallowed his pride, remembering that Lily would have disapproved of such an action.
“That is all I needed to know,” Severus answered.
He then turned on his heels and stormed away. When he got far enough away from the church, Severus let out an anguished howl before throwing the locket into a nearby bush. It was over. His last chance was gone. His heart was gone. Severus Disapparated away, unable to bear the sounds of joy that were coming from the church.
Title: The Rare Gift
Word Count: 497
Rating/Warnings: 3rd-5th year, none
It had been a long time since Sirius Black had breathed air as a free man. The beach around him was made up of vast dunes of white sand, and a pristine sea stretched out to meet the horizon. White clouds dotted the sky, and golden streams of sunlight filtered through. Somewhere amongst the clouds he was sure Buckbeak was enjoying himself. Sirius closed his eyes and breathed in the salty breeze. It was a good day to be alive. He thought of James.
Write a drabble in which Sirius, having escaped from Azkaban, is hiding out on a tropical beach, and incorporate the memory of him hanging that magazine cover with bikini-clad Muggle girls in his room. Buckbeak must be mentioned in the drabble, although he doesn't have to be present. While on the beach, have Sirius run into another person, male or female. Whether or not Sirius is a dog or a person for the majority of the time is up to you. However, he must be in each form at some point in the drabble.
Sirius opened his eyes. He chuckled as he remembered his lost friend. James had always seized life. He never let it slide by. Sirius remembered when James had given him his first Muggle magazine with bikini clad girls on the cover. Together they had come up with the obvious conclusion that the wall of Sirius’s room was the best place to put said magazine cover. He still remembered how furious his mother had been when she had not been able to get the cover off of his wall.
Sadness began to percolate through Sirius. A longing to see his friend’s smile again stabbed through him. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time. Just as Sirius began to spiral into gloom, the sound of laughter caught his ear.
Sirius turned and saw a young boy and his mother walking up the beach towards him. Something about the boy‘s laughter reminded him of his friend. Sirius watched as they passed. He noticed the mother eyed him warily. He wasn’t surprised. Any good mother would be wary of his gaunt looks and haunted eyes, but he longed to be near them just to listen to the little boy’s laughter. So he did what was left for him to do. He transformed into Padfoot.
Padfoot loped up to the small family. The mother watched him coming closely. Padfoot stopped, and sat down a few feet away. The little boy squealed, and made an attempt to run towards the dog, but was soundly blocked by his mother.
Padfoot got up and came closer. The mother tried to shoo him away, for which he promptly fell over, and rolled around on his back as any cuddly dog would. The kid squealed again in excitement. The mother looked around the beach for Padfoot’s owner, and then cautiously approached him, trying once again to shoo him away. He responded by licking her hand. The mother jumped, and then smiled as she watched Padfoot chase his own tail. The boy laughed and ran over to pet him. Seeing as the dog was no threat, the mother watched as her son played in the sand with the dog.
She didn’t know it, but she was giving Padfoot a rare gift. For one day of his life he got to feel what it was like to have a son, and play in the sand with him. Sirius knew that this couldn’t last forever, but for today he lived in this dream.
Title: Not Possible
Word Count: 433
Ratings/Warnings: 1st-2nd yrs; a scandal involving a house elf and Narcissa...
A/N: Many thanks to the evil prompt I received. For the timeline, this would be before Dobby was freed, right before the second year of Draco's schooling at Hogwarts.
Dobby and Narcissa have a far more complex relationship than meets the eye. Write about Draco’s reaction when he stumbles upon a moment between his mother and their house-elf.
He sat fuming in his bedroom, not entirely sure of what he had seen. For some reason, he hated himself instead of his mother, but then again, he rarely could find it within himself to be angry at his mother. She had never approved of his habit of eavesdropping, so he easily found fault with himself for what he had seen. At the same time, though, he felt like he was channeling his father, who had no qualms about eavesdropping. Lucius had always told him that information was a gold mine and the key to gaining power.
Still, he tried hard to shake the image from his mind. He just couldn’t believe that his mother had— No, it was better to not think about it. Nobody in their right mind would think his mother a softie for a house elf!
But the way she had smoothed his head! The way she had talked to the disgusting servile creature! The way she had smiled twisted into Draco’s heart. His mother never treated the help kindly. He couldn’t understand why this time was different, why his mother, when she had been alone, had decided to calm the house elf down and stop him from punishing himself. It didn’t really make sense.
As Draco sat there, confused, a thought came to his mind. His mother was a Slytherin, after all, and his father would not have married her if she hadn’t borne some of those Slytherin qualities. Perhaps she was trying to pull one on the elf, make the elf believe that she truly cared about it, and then she could get away with doing anything to it. Or perhaps the elf was hiding something, and his mother realized that the only way to get information was by pretending to coddle the stupid thing. Yes…
There wasn’t any way he could find the solution without being caught by his father or mother. He could try eavesdropping again, but he did not care to have a repeat of that scene playing in his head, no matter how hard he tried to justify his mother’s actions. He scowled. He wished he knew the magic that could remove certain memories.
Outside his bedroom door, he could hear his parents conversing with the servants, using the same condescending tone they always used. It calmed him to hear something so normal, and hearing his mother’s voice confirmed that there was no way she could ever have affection for a lower creature. It just wasn’t possible.
But the image of his mother’s hands on the elf’s ears would not leave him alone.
Title: Of Monsters and Men
Word Count: 458
Rating/Warnings: 1st-2nd years; implied violence
Write a fluffy romance set in the Founders era. The main point of view character can not be a Founder, but the Founders can be in it.
It happens in his seventeenth summer. The village is loud as merchants trundle through the streets, as young girls sell flowers, and boys run around them pulling their hair and laughing. Caerwyn often wishes he had the same freedom to be a child again, without the burden of hiding and running and waiting for the worst to happen. He misses it like he misses his family, but then he remembers that he is running because of his family and doesn’t miss them at all.
He doesn’t, he doesn’t miss them at all.
He hears the crash before he sees it. A merchant’s cartwheel snaps, all flying splinters and earth and horse dung, and the cart and it’s wares careen to the side of the road towards a group of children. Caerwyn doesn’t even think, doesn’t even pause to remember why he can’t afford to react. He jumps into the road, hands held high.
And the cart stops.
There is silence. There is silence but for the sack of goblets that scatter across the road, plink-plink-plinking until they too come to a halt.
The villagers stare, and he can feel their relief turning to shock, to suspicion, to hatred and fear. He snatches up a goblet, surrounded and at the mercy of a fearful mob. In their eyes he can see his father and his brothers and that last beautiful day when everything was fine and then everything wasn’t.
I don’t, I don’t miss them at all.
That’s when he sees her. She pushes through the gathering crowd, through the murmurs and whimpering children, and takes his hand. She lifts a finger to her lips, and he closes his eyes, waiting for the crowd to swallow them whole but instead he feels a jerk at his navel, and then they are surrounded by trees instead of angry fists.
You are the same, he says. Yes, she replies.
Thank you, he whispers. It is nothing, she replies. Her hair is golden blonde, and her eyes a murky, warm green.
Will you teach me, he asks. Will you teach me to escape those monsters who wish to harm me for something I cannot change?
They are not monsters, she replies. They are ignorant men. It is dangerous to call those who are human something they are not. Never forget that. Even those whom you love can turn into someone worse than a monster.
I won’t, I won’t forget.
He already knows.
It happens in his seventeenth summer. Helga Hufflepuff saves his life and welcomes him to a world he didn’t know existed, a world where he doesn’t have to run and hide and wait. She saves his life, and he repays her with a cup made of gold and his heart.
Many, many apologies for the delay in posting this. There were a multitude of reasons involving airports on the part of a brawler, and two school visits on the part of the barmaid.