Weekly Drabble Challenge - Word Beads #1

[mugglemathdork]

The Weeklies are back!

To celebrate the re-inauguration of the weeklies, we'll be changing the format this round and several others by providing you with different types of prompts from 'word beads' to using 'quotes' and 'themes.'

Your prompt for this first round is word beads.
Use the following words: hunt, calculate, camera, sharpen in a drabble, correctly both grammatically and in their definition.

The following form must be used when submitting your drabble responses to this post -

Name:
House:
Title:
Warnings:
Words:

Winners will be awarded 15, 10, and 5 points respectively.

All drabbles must be less than 500 words; All standard grammar rules, and MNFF submissions guidelines apply.

The challenge will be up for a week, and be closed exactly a week later.
MithrilQuill and I will be judging them and posting results a couple of days later.

All questions should be referred to the Question Corner - Do not post questions here. Only drabbles!

Other than that...have fun!

~Gato Loco & Mith~

[BeautifulDreamer07]

Name: BeautifulDreamer07/Hallie
House: Gryffindor!
Title: Photography
Warnings: None
Words: 471

Photography is, essentially, the hunt for the perfect moment. Photographers can spend all their life searching for that moment. Some never find it. Some find it early and then are always trying to find it again and recreate it. Others find it at the least expected time and don't realize that they have found it until it has passed.

That's how it happened for me.

I was sitting in the Gryffindor common room waiting for Harry to appear, as I so often did, for he had gone out some time earlier and I was eager to discuss my latest pictures with him. It was late, around midnight or so. The fire in the grate had already died down to a few smoldering coals, their feeble light casting deep blood red shadows all around the common room. I shivered in the semi-darkness and tried, once again, to calculate how much time I had left until the fire was completely gone, but was no more successful than I had been before. I shifted to a more comfortable position on my chair and pulled out a quill to sharpen. I was just nodding off when I heard the portrait hole open.

I sat up and raised my camera, thinking that Harry had finally returned, but I was surprised to see my fellow first year, Ginny Weasley, clambering into the common room and making her way to sit on the windowsill. I made to lower my camera, slightly disappointed, but I stopped when I saw the beautiful picture that was laid out before me.

The deep red of the dying fire had thrown Ginny’s face into sharp relief. Her eyes usually so bright and clear, were clouded with pain and anger and her vivid red hair was the color of blood. As I watched, a tear trickled down her pale cheek and died on her lips. Ginny reached up a hand and brushed the wet trail away with her slender fingers. Her face was so beautiful and, yet, so sad. My heart simultaneously broke and sang with joy at the sight of her. Without thinking, I raised my camera and snapped a picture.

The flash snapped her out of her reverie and alerted her to the fact that I was there. She blushed and murmured a greeting to me before fleeing up the stairs to the girl’s dormitory. I waited until I heard the door close and then rushed back to my dormitory to develop the picture. I anxiously awaited the results as the potion worked its magic.

Photgraphy is, essentially, the hunt for the perfect moment. I was lucky enough to find mine unexpectedly. Now, when I want to remember what my life is all about, I take out my picture and watch the most beautiful girl brush a single tear from her face.

Strictly speaking, I didn't have time for this challenge, but you know...when inspiration strikes, answer that call!

[Merlynne]

Name: Merlynne
House: Slytherin
Title: April in Paris
Warnings: Mild Violence
Words: 475

Walking up the Champs d’Élysées, Blaise was blinded by the flash of an old fashioned camera in the hands of a squinting tourist. The subject was the Arc de Triomph. But Blaise was looking for something else, and his hunt was almost over. His father lived here.

The park at the side of the road was filled with people. Children, tourists, foreigners, cluttered around a public restroom and a crépe stand. Blaise wasn’t sure what he was looking for, exactly. He was waiting for some sign, some sixth sense to sharpen within him and say, this one.

“He looks like you, lives in Paris,” Madame Zabini had said. “I met him on the Champs d’Élysées, eighteen years ago. I never married him. I…couldn’t, Blaise. You will understand when you see him, though it was for more than one reason.”

She couldn’t kill him, Blaise decided. She didn’t have the heart to kill this one. Maybe she loved him. Maybe it was because of something else. Blaise tried to ignore the other maybes.

Blaise’s eyes fell on a pretty Spanish girl standing off the sidewalk. She winked at him. Blaise winked back.

Immediatley, one of her friends stepped up. He was big, with hair all over his arms and poking out the neck of his white shirt. He had something to prove, and Blaise was eyeing his friend. Girlfriend, probably.

“You,” the big Spaniard retorted. “Keep yours eyes off my sister.” Sister. Even worse.

“Pardon me, but her eyes were on me as well.”

The brother didn’t like cheek, and rolled up his sleeves. Blaise was in over his head. He was fit, but only for show. He wasn’t a fighter. But for pretty girls, he would pretend to be.

“Let’s go,” the brother said, bouncing from foot-to-foot in overdone macho style.

Blaise was too proud to calculate his odds. If he had, he would have known this was a mistake. But he punched.

He found himself on his stomach, blood streaming from his nose. The Spaniard pressed his face into the ground with one massive hand. Rough hands pulled them apart, dragging Blaise to his feet.

“Boys,” someone was snapping. “Get out of here, go! I will call the police! Fighting here, in this place. No respect. You too, boy. Get out of here!”

Blaise stood stock-still. A dribble of blood ran down his face, and he wiped at it hurriedly with one hand. His eyes were on the man before him.

He was wearing a white apron with stains on it. He had come form the nearest crépe stand, abandoning a queue of hungry tourists to break up the fight. He had dark skin, and slanting brown eyes that blazed now as he looked at the blood-covered boy in front of him.

“Get out of here,” the man repeated in French.

Blaise ran.

[Pondering]

Name: Pondering
House: Ravenclaw
Title: Family Tradition
Warnings: None
Words: 499

“I need to sharpen my pencil!” Lily Potter whined. She waved the picture she was drawing in the air above her head to try and attract her mother’s attention. However, the only person who saw her attempts was her brother, James.

“Mum’s busy,” he said offhandedly. “And besides, real witches use ink and parchment, not pencils and paper. You want to be a real witch, don’t you?”

Lily’s lower lip started trembling, and before James could do anything to stop her, she started screaming. “MUMMY!” she yelled. “James is being mean and I can’t find my sharpener!”

“James!” Ginny Potter shouted as she entered the room. “Be nice to your sister! Your dad’s fixing the camera so we can take our annual family photos, can you please just get Lily to calm down; find her ink bottle or whatever she’s looking for, and just—don’t misbehave? Oh, and have you seen Al anywhere? I’ve been looking for him—he needs to comb his hair for once.”

“I have no idea where he is,” James replied truthfully, trying not to think about the looming family photos. They were always a disaster in one way or another, but his mum and dad always found them to be special.

Ginny sighed and went outside to try and hunt down her other son, who was most likely practicing his flying technique, even though his parents had told him not to use his broomstick without their supervision.

As soon as his mother left the room, James shot a heavy look at Lily. “I don’t care where your stupid sharpener is. Look, I’ll get you some ink.” He scurried up the stairs to his bedroom and returned a few moments later with a bottle of red ink and an eagle feather quill. He twirled it in his fingers. “Lily, a quill isn’t that hard to use. See?” With a larger than necessary flourish, James tried to dip the quill in the bottle but the extra movement caused him to knock the ink all over Lily’s new dress robes.

Lily started screeching at a volume that James did not think humanely possible. Ginny rushed into the room with a sheepish Al in tow. Her face paled as she took in the sight of her daughter splattered with red liquid, until she realised it was merely ink.

“James! I ask you to take care of your sister for five minutes and you cannot even manage that much…”

Lily grinned at James, her eyes crinkling with silent laughter. He could see her try to mentally calculate how much trouble he would get into this time. His little sister could very mischievous.

“Look, we don’t have time for this,” Ginny said, ushering the three siblings out. “Daddy’s set the camera up outside.”

Harry Potter smiled as he saw his family march outdoors: Al’s hair messy, James looking glum and Lily’s robes splattered with ink. He couldn’t imagine photo day without something going wrong—it had become a family tradition.

[chasing_willow]

Name: chasing_willow.
House: Ravenclaw.
Title: The Quiet Evening.
Warnings: None.
Words: 307.

Ginny craned her neck to look over. A large greasy candle stood on the table in front of a large box with something humming and hissing inside. She slid ever-cautiously, along very clean, but awfully creaky wood floors. Auntie Muriel was hunched over parchment, holding a stubby bit of charcoal. Within an old-fashioned camera obscura, a mobile whirred and hissed, casting fuzzy, whiskery shadows onto the old woman’s parchment.

Entranced, Ginny watched her grumpy old aunt tirelessly trace the ornate cogs, wheels and the whiskery shadows and blurs they cast onto the piece of parchment. Thoughts swirled beneath the neatly groomed ginger hair. Thoughts carried her to the damp, frigid woods where Harry continued his hunt for something he wouldn’t talk about. Ginny sighed. By now she just wanted him to come back alive from what she was hoping wasn’t a search for veela.

The mobile kept its pace casting wispy shadows, and the elderly dame kept on sketching as the youngest of her kin struggled to calculate how many hours has Harry been gone. She flinched.
The mobile whirred on methodically still, as a frazzled old owl bumped square into the window.
The woman let out a heavy sigh as she tended to the poor bird, Ginny cast her looks of mute interrogation, but Muriel divulged nothing.

Determined to seem unperturbed by the silent treatment, the redhead sat down to sharpen the charcoals. Up close, the mobile looked oddly familiar – she first saw it in her fourth year, when she was terrified out of sleep by McGonagall and brought into Dumbledore’s office. Horror swept over her face.
All the Weasley clock’s hands still pointed to “mortal peril”, but though tattered and frayed, they were all still alive. Dad was cured of the snake venom, George survived the run-in with Snape and Ginny silently pleaded that Harry would make it back too.

[Nez]

Name: Nez
House: Hufflepuff
Title: Everlasting
Warnings: None
Words: 331

James Potter was not a man to stand by and wait for the girl to notice him. And since third year, his eyes were glued to Lily Evans. Sirius had a tendency to say he lusted for her. Peter always said that it was just a hunt, and he’d sign her off when he got her. Remus told him he most likely wasn’t even going to get her.

Now they were all proven wrong, James thought, waiting at the altar for that same Lily, who never was a trophy, who was his one sweetheart. He calculated he could get about sixteen other girlfriends while in his ‘pursuit’ of Lily, but he hadn’t dated a single one of them.

He flashed a grin towards his best man and friend, standing right beside him. Sirius returned it, understanding that Prongs has never been so happy.

And then, the gates opened and the music played and he saw her. She was as stunningly beautiful as he had never seen her till now. The white lilies in her hair shone unbelievably, and he found it hard to focus on anything else than that image of a perfect woman.

After an endless amount of time she glided to his side, taking his hand into hers, squeezing it slightly. She made him feel so happy and fulfilled he wouldn’t give it away for the world. The loving smile on her lips and the gleeful look in her emerald eyes was enough to send any man half-crazy, James thought. And he knew that that picture of Lily’s perfect face and her red, red lips and her green, green orbs will never leave him, that it was more permanent than any image taken by a camera and told even more than a thousand words.

It was a picture of happiness, of hope and of “I do”s , a face of patience and kindness. It was residing in his heart eternally, never to leave.

It was a picture of love.

[Heather25x]

Name: Heather25x
House: Hufflepuff
Title: Absolute Perfection.
Warnings: None.
Words: 497.

‘A little more to the left. Ginny move along there!’ Molly Weasley cried.

She heard Ginny mutter. She knew it was tiring, but she wanted the perfect picture.

Molly peered through the camera lens again, and shook her head. ‘No, no. Ginny come down to the middle row. You’re too short to be at the back.’ She waited for Ginny to find a place in the middle row.

‘Thanks a lot,’ Ginny said huffily, but Molly noticed a smile spread across Ginny’s face as she stepped to her husband’s side, and kissed him on the cheek.

Molly frowned. She wanted the Weasley’s together, but they were different heights. She surveyed the group. Ron was at the back, standing with Fleur. Bill was in front, positioned with Hermione. No, Molly thought. This was all wrong. They may all look perfect through the camera, in height order, but that to Molly was definitely not perfection.

‘All of the Weasley’s at the back!’ Molly shouted suddenly. She could hear grumbles as they all moved, but when they all got together she heard cheerful chatter break out. None of them were picture perfect, but they were perfect in another way…

‘And now all the partners join them!’ She said. They did so happily.

‘Now all the friends of the family sit in front of them!’ Molly watched as Neville. She saw Hagrid stomping his way to stand next to him, and talking to Harry behind him. She watched Teddy Lupin stand beside Hagrid and greet Lily Potter as she rushed up to him.

‘Now everyone else in the front row!’ Molly said. She leant forward to sharpen the picture of the camera, and watched all the children slide to the floor, creating grass stains on their knees.

Molly bent down to hunt for her wand in her bag. She looked through the camera once more and then gave it a quick tap with her wand.

She rushed into the back of the crowd, trying to calculate how long she had to get into position. Then she realised it didn’t matter, because they were not picture perfect at all. She wanted a picture of the family as they were in real life, at their best, in Molly’s opinion.

Molly turned to hug her husband with joy as the camera flickered brightly for a second. No one noticed. When Molly broke free from the hug, she ran to collect the picture.

The Weasley family, and all their dearest friends, were all standing together. None of them was looking at the camera. None of them looked was posing for the picture. But Molly had the picture she wanted. Everyone was talking, or kissing, or hugging, or laughing. George was talking animatedly to Charlie and Charlie was laughing, throwing his head back. She gazed at her loved ones, watching them move amongst each other to talk to other members of the group. They were all with each other.

That, to Molly Weasley, was absolute perfection.

I hope that's OK.

[Fly to Dawn]

Name: Fly to Dawn
House: Ravenclaw
Title: Hers
Warnings: None
Words: 323

Diagon Alley, 1983. Andromeda and Ted walk hand in hand, the light spring sun gently warming their faces. Dora rushes before them, on a hunt to find and devour the newest sweets from Ardylla Ackley’s corner shop. Five minutes later they’re standing in a whirlpool of sweet-smelling colours – although Ted doesn’t look too happy with the hazardous-looking ball of bright green he’s been given – and old Ardylla smiles, remembering her family, far, far away.

*

The summer of 1984 is a hot one. Dora is eleven, perched on a fence in the park near the family’s flat; grinning wildly, her hair’s a mad blur of purple and red and orange – she likes to see the muggle children’s shocked faces – and Ted stands beside her wearing the same wicked grin as his daughter. They’re both licking ice creams which have started to drip; Ted’s holding his cone at arm’s length away. The camera whirrs gently as the shutter frames that moment forever, and Andromeda laughs.

*

It’s already the autumn of 1985, and Dora’s boarding the Hogwarts’ Express for the second time. Ted’s given her a secret mission to sharpen her jinxing skills and use them on her worst enemy, and Andromeda pretends not to know - but still she can’t help but smile to herself amusedly. They kiss Dora goodbye, and as the scarlet train speeds away into the distance leaving a trail of smoke behind, the two parents grin at each other and head for home.

*

1986, Christmas. The family’s crowded around the table. It’s not much of a family – there’s only Ted, Andromeda, Dora, and their owl that Ted has unceremoniously nicknamed Pertwee, but it’s enough. Whilst Ted’s trying to calculate the remaining hours until the year ends, Dora’s trying to squeeze a half-torn party hat onto Pertwee’s resisting head - and as Andromeda brings the turkey in, the family cheers.

It’s the same old family, the same old flat, the same old grins – but it’s hers.

[A Cappella]

Name: A Cappella
House: Hufflepuff
Title: The Art of Drowning
Warnings: ---
Words: 356

The sun’s rays, scattered about her sinking body, are slipping from focus. Her lungs are enclosed and she screams a yell that no one can hear. Her fingers are groping for something to rescue her, for a last sliver of hope, but only the swish of water comes in contact with her skin. A tangle of brown hair wraps around her mouth and nose as she feels herself slipping from consciousness.

She’s drowning, and she cannot swim.

Does death feel like this? Does it encase the soul and override all surrounding noise? Or is it merely the rush of water in her ears that creates this illusion?

Her eyes are closing, surrendering. So much for a vacation.

Something tugs at the camera that is strung around her neck and yanks. With a jerk, she is pulled from the river and onto solid ground. For the next few minutes, she lays face down on the grass, hacking and spitting out water from her deprived lungs.

There is a shadow looming over her; she can see it on the grass. Rolling onto her back, exhausted, she tries to focus the blurry forms around her; the images sharpen within seconds and she notices that ice-cold eyes are peering down at her.

Could it be?

As if attempting to calculate his expression, her gaze rakes his face, which is more angular now; his hair looks even paler in the sunlight.

Though past grievances are preventing the words from rising to her throat, she mutters, “Thank you.”

“I would’ve thought twice about it if I knew it was you, Mudblood.” His mouth curves into the familiar sneer. Abruptly, he stands up and brushes his pants off lightly.

A ghost of a smile appears on her face. “No, Malfoy, I’m sure you’ve made it your life-long goal to hunt me down.”

Scoffing, he retorts, “You wish, Granger, you wish.” Without further elaboration, he nods his head at her and walks away. A few moments later, she can only see the speck of platinum blonde as it disappears into the crowd of tourists.

Why does she still feel as if she is drowning?

[pokethedevil]

Name: pokethedevil
House: Gryffindor
Title: A Portrait of Youth
Warnings: None
Words: 495

“Hurry up you guys! The train’s getting ready to leave!”

Lily Evans stood in the sun-lit grounds of Hogwarts, shielding her gaze from the sun’s rays with her hand, an old fashioned camera on a tripod in front of her.

“I was waiting for you actually; have you got that old antique all set?”
James said with his usual cocky smile. “Oi Padfoot!”

Sirius Black turned his head in the direction of his friend’s voice.

“Just hold on for a bit!” He bent and placed a kiss on the cheek of a pretty brunette with whom he was earlier engrossed in a face eating battle.
“See you later…” And with a wink at her he walked towards James.
She giggled and waved goodbye just as Peter came into view, lugging behind him a huge trunk.
“Who was that Sirius?”

“Sharpen your wits Peter, just another one of his birdies…” said James lazily.
Sirius flashed a devilish grin in the direction of the camera before saying, “Everyone ready? My looks can’t wait for you lot all day you know…”

Lily sighed at the scene before her. She tapped her foot impatiently on the ground, clicking her tongue.

“Wait a second, where’s Moony?”

Lily looked around and saw Remus running up to her.

“Sorry, just thought I should leave my trunk in the train. Luckily I saved us a good compartment.

Sirius rolled his eyes and said “Always the prudent one, aren’t you Moony? Now hurry up and get over here before Evans decides to blow herself up!”

Remus looked apologetically at Lily before joining his friends in front of the camera.

“OK, everybody set? Good. Now say chee—no wait.”

The foursome let out collective groans as Lily bent down to make another adjustment.

“Couldn’t you hunt down something better than this Peter?” said James with an exasperated sigh.

“It was the cheapest one they had!” protested Peter from somewhere between Remus and Sirius’s tight hold of him.

James opened his mouth to retort just as Lily said, “Done”.
“All set? Did you calculate the button, knobs and whatnots? Goody! Ready everyone?”

Lily bent down, her dark red hair a curtain around her face, squinted her eyes in focus, her finger on the button-

“Oww! Peter you're on my foot!” came Sirius’s haughty voice.
“Sorry…”

Lily bit her lip and focused:
James, with his trademark messy hair sticking out in all directions, grinning; Sirius smiling lazily, standing with an arm around James’s neck; Peter, with his usual look of pleasurable delight on his face; and Remus with his calm smile and a happiness in his eyes. It was hard to believe that they were about to leave Hogwarts for good...

She pressed the button to capture their grinning faces on paper. But in her memory was imprinted forever the image of four friends, standing arm in arm, ready to withstand all the hurdles that the world they were about to venture into had to throw at them.