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Thread: Weekly Drabble Challenge - Theme: Fire

  1. #11
    Slytherin Mom Slytherin
    Where are you Wetherby?
    NikkiSue's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2006
    In a state of confusion.
    Name: Nicole/NikkiSue
    House: The House of Salazar
    Title: Sweet Inferno
    Warnings: not off hand...
    Words: 493. I impressed myself with that.


    He could taste the salty sweat falling around his face.

    The heat – it was becoming uncomfortable. Red and orange flames dancing in front of him.

    He laughed.

    “Dancing” was a term which made it sound like such a pleasant thing to watch but in all honesty he was more frightened at that moment than he had ever been. The inferno licked away at his home with very little effort.

    Those people… the masks… they searched the house and could not find anyone so they left the family a message in the form of the destruction now playing out in front of him.

    It was dumb luck, in his words, that he was the only one home at the time of the visit from the Death Eaters. He knew, had his mother been home, she would have been a shrieking, blubbering fool who would almost certainly have given away their hiding place. His father – hah! His father would have tried using his, “Holier than thou” attitude and made an effort to scare them off. He was convinced that these people, these freaks of nature were just showing off and could do no more harm than some poor fool on All Hallows Eve brandishing a stick.

    The heat was getting to be unbearable but he could not take his eyes off of the burning form of the house in front of him. It was ironic how the wizards had so many forms of offensive measures and still chose fire to get their point across.

    So simple yet so powerful.

    It was something that he himself could have done so many times when he was angry at his life and the direction it had gone. The year had not been an easy one but through the chaos and flurry of relocating, he had learned to do one thing that he would have otherwise not fathomed… He had gained a sense of respect for his cousin.

    They had only communicated once or twice because receiving post by owl made his parents nervous but they were at least making an effort to open their relationship up in a positive manner. He knew he could freely ask anything regarding the wizarding world that he felt the urge to and his cousin would answer as honestly as he could. In turn, he would hear stories of the adventures happening on the other side of the country in a world he might never otherwise know of.

    The flames had completely engulfed his house by this point. The boy jumped slightly when he noticed a presence beside him but he didn’t make eye contact.

    “I’m glad you got out in time,” said the voice.

    Nodding, Dudley shrugged his shoulders. The blacks of his eyes were engrossed with the scene playing out. Blinking, he asked, “Now what?”

    Harry simply answered, “Pick up and move on. Can you do that?”

    Dudley raised his eyebrows mischievously. “Can your people make our next house bigger?”

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  2. #12
    Name: HorcruxHunter14
    House: Slytherin
    Title: As Warmth Becomes Death
    Warnings: None
    Words: 220

    She watched the smoke rising, feeling its heat. It was not a comforting kind of heat, rather one that left her sweating and uncomfortable, no matter how hard she tried to ignore it. She braced herself for the flames, but did not move.

    He sat perfectly still, feeling warmer and warmer but not knowing what to do. He thought of the mark on his arm, the burning pain that uttered not a single flame. He thought of the scar, the memory, etched deep into his skin, not always visible but burning bright in his mind.

    She studied his eyes, saw the tears he refused to shed. Though he pretended to be, he was not completely devoid of emotion. There was some flickering light within him; whether of hope or defeat, she could not tell.

    He thought of ashes that stained everything in its path. He couldn’t take his mind off a beautiful, white flower, one so pure but blackened by a new truth. That flower meant death.

    She waited for him to speak. She wouldn’t believe that they would let this tiny flame burn on, until it was a fire they could no longer control. She tried to extinguish the fire, wondering if she was already burned.

    “Are you alright?”

    “It’s Lily.”

    She watched his life go up in flames.

  3. #13
    Words: 331

    Sirius realized what he had done, what he had caused too late and a cold fire consumed his very heart and soul. How could this have happened! He wanted nothing more than to fall to his knees and mourne for his best friend and his family but something stopped him.

    As he stood there staring at the rubble that used to be James and Lily Potter's house he heard a small cry, a child's cry. With an inkling of hope now burning in his heart he rushed through splintered wood to where the nursery should have been located. Merlin, please let that have been Harry and not a trick of my imagination. Please let Harry be alright.

    Digging through the rubble he found the child's crib, thankfully, intact with Harry inside, tears streaming down his face. The child appeared unhurt except for a small cut, shaped like a lightning bolt, on his forehead. This more than anything seemed to confirm his cold fear that James and Lily were no more, neither would have let their child's cry go unanswered.

    With Harry in tow, Sirius began to make his way back to the street where his motorbike was parked. He needed to get Harry to safety and fast before anyone else attempted to harm him.

    Just as he reached the gate a large, imposing figure stopped him in his tracks.

    "Hello, Hagrid, what are you doing here?"

    "I'm here fer Harry, Dumbledore sent me after we learned what happened. I'm ter take 'im ter his Aunt's over in Little Whinging."

    "Yeah, that's a good idea. He'll be safe there. Take my Motorbike, I won't be needing it," Sirius replied in a monotone voice, staring blankly ahead.

    As he watched Hagrid dissappear into the moonlight with Harry a new fire consumed the tormented heart of Sirius Black, revenge. Someone would pay for what had happened in Godric's Hollow this night, and Sirius knew exactly who that someone was going to be.

  4. #14
    Name: harrypotterfangirl21
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: Crucio
    Warnings: Violence, Mental Disorders
    Words: 200

    “No — no, please — I’ll do anything — please — stop — please —” he gasped.

    But his torturer showed no sign of stopping. In fact, he felt the curse penetrate deeper, inflicting more pain.

    At first he had only felt knives. Thousands and thousands of knives stabbing him, tearing him, ripping him apart. But if it was knives, where was the blood?

    Then came the fire.

    It burned, as normal fire had, but this fire didn’t stop at his skin. It burned his veins, his senses, his mind, his blood, his very soul.

    “Please — no more — stop — I beg you —”

    But the Dark Lord payed no heed to the man’s pleas.

    Another flick of the wrist.

    Another spasm of pain.

    More knives.

    More fire.

    Finally, he could take no more. He felt himself let go. . . let his mind go. . . let his sanity leave. . . .

    The last thing he remembered before sinking into madness was that the man’s eyes were red like fire.


    “FIRE! FIRE! PUT IT OUT!” he screamed. There was, of course, no fire.

    None but the fire that blazed in his mind; playfully, tauntingly, painfully.

    And he allowed the fire to take him.
    Right, so that was really dark.

    - Katie

  5. #15
    Pepper Imp
    Name: Pepper Imp // Cammie
    House: Win Win Slytherin!
    Title: Silenti etc Vereor Incendia
    Warnings: It’s dark . . . . and AU because this is from an Inferius’ POV and that, in canon, is impossible.
    Words: 389

    A/N: Just as a note, the Inferi sometimes refer to water with the pronoun ‘her’ – just to clear up any confusion.

    The water calms us, for we know that with her there, the infernal hell cannot swallow us.

    Our cold and clammy fingers and toes barely have any sensation, yet we know that the cold keeps us safe. We know that the footsteps that have barely echoed over the rocks for fifty years are dangerous, yet we know that we can make them flee and scream in fear.

    Why do we stay in our freezing haven? Because we can, and because we can still hand onto the small fragment of life that our withered bodies and minds can grasp, even though it’s pitiful and barely worth living for.

    Our unseeing eyes make no move to try and seek out the source of the footsteps and the vibrations that are sent through the water. Nothing but protection matters any more to any of us, we try and fight the curse that binds us to the Dark Lord, but only half=heartedly. We are shallow, heartless things: we don’t care for what we do or who we kill as long as our lives are still hanging by a thread.

    A strangled voice calls out from above us, and we seem not to care. Our limbs fail helplessly in the water, and we are just irrelevant, though we all know that the people on the surface are quaking in their boots.

    A goblet plunges into the water. We react almost thoughtlessly, though the more recent of us have a few remnants of thought.

    We jump up and are greeted with fire. The pain sears across our chests, allowing us to fall back into our haven – only to rise up again and to be struck down.

    The face of the attacker can sometimes be seen – my name is Regulus Black and that is my brother’s godson.

    . . . . and that it all that I can ever remember. Even with the fire that flourishes in front of me, nothing else springs to mind.

  6. #16
    Name: Heather25x
    House: I'll Huff and i'll Puff...
    Title: Fire of Fury
    Warnings: None.
    Words: 499

    Ron yelled the password at the Fat Lady and stumbled through the portrait hole. He saw Hermione storming up to the girls’ dormitories and grabbed her arm. ‘Hermione, wait, please!’ he cried, but Hermione was fighting with all her might to release her arm from Ron’s grip.

    ‘Ron – get off me!’ She shouted, angry tears flooding from her eyes. Ron felt panic flowing through him. Why had he done it? What had possessed him to do it?

    He took Hermione by her wrists and pushed her into the nearest chair. Hermione buried her face in her hands.

    ‘Hermione,’ Ron said, kneeling down beside her. He didn’t know where to start. Why he’d done it? What it meant? It meant nothing! He knew that, but he couldn’t speak…so many thoughts whirled around in his mind that he couldn’t connect them to his lips.

    Hermione breathed deeply and looked up at Ron, her face blotchy. ‘Ron, what you do with Lavender Brown is your business. It’s got nothing to do with me -’

    ‘But it has, Hermione!’ Ron exclaimed. He had to make her understand, or he would lose her forever. ‘I only did it because -’

    ‘Because what?’ Hermione cried, ‘to prove a point? To show me you can get a girl if you try?’ She stood up, looking down at Ron. ‘I don’t care if you can get a girl, Ron!’

    ‘Hermione -’

    ‘I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about anyone else, but obviously you don’t need to worry about how I feel, as long as you’re snogging someone to show me that you can, it’s fine!’

    ‘Hermione, I didn’t do it to show you anything!’ Ron said, standing up. ‘Really, it’s just Ginny said -’

    ‘Oh, Ginny said,’ Hermione sneered. ‘So you go round kissing girls because your little sister doesn’t think you can? I thought you cared about me -’

    ‘I do!’ Ron shouted. Why hadn’t he told her before, why? ‘How you feel about me – I feel the same way!’

    ‘Then why, Ron?’ Hermione said hopelessly, letting her arms fall. ‘I thought our friendship would mean more to you. I thought that even if you didn’t like me, that you wouldn’t hurt me, because we’re best friends. But obviously I was wrong.’ She started towards the common room door, and Ron felt hopeless. Everything was so confusing. This was too much information to process right now, with so much going on inside his head. But there she was, running for the portrait hole, as though in slow motion. Above everything else that had happened tonight, he just needed to tell her, or all would be lost.

    ‘But Hermione,’ he called, and watched her turn and look at him. ‘I do love you!’

    But with a cry of fury, a scream of disbelief, Hermione thrust her wand towards Ron and he was encircled with a hot, orange strip of fire, and as he watched Hermione disappear through the smoke, he could say no more.
    Sorry i left it so late to enter. I didn't think i was going to enter because i couldn't think of a story, but then i was struck by inspiration...

  7. #17
    Name: leahsm2
    House: Slytherin
    Title: Burnin’ Down the House
    Warnings: House elves are considered property. Peacocks, maybe not.
    Words: 469

    They stood on the hill looking down below. It was bitterly cold on the hill, but no one noticed. They were watching the flames. The flames were starting to recede. Soon, the house would be gone. It would be like it had never existed. It would be like a new beginning.

    Narcissa stood in front of the mirror. She normally admired herself in mourning regalia, the black of the robes and the thin lace veiling offset her light colouring to perfection, but not today. She had grown weary of loss and tired of feeling regret. She turned suddenly and walked from the room, her mind set on her new path. She was through with the past. She had buried her sister in the Black family plot, over the objections of her son and husband. They had both felt that Bellatrix should be left behind, unclaimed with the others who had fallen in their absurd quest to dominate the wizarding world for evil purpose. After all, if it hadn’t been for Narcissa and her lies, they had argued, the outcome would have been far different.

    We would all be dead by now, she thought bitterly as she swept through the hall of Malfoy Mansion, her footsteps making the familiar echoing as she walked with new purpose. This house, which up until recently had meant so much to her, was now oppressive. The memories of the past few months had ruined it for her. It needed to be gone.

    She strode into the main parlor, where her husband and son were sitting. They turned as one and regarded her warily, as this new resolve in her was alarming. Where once she had been willing to demure to both her son and husband in any request, she now disregarded their counsel at every turn.

    “We are leaving,” she said quietly. “We have enough other assets to live our lives fifteen times over. This place is a liability that I can no longer tolerate.”

    She knew she could obliterate this stain from their lives in a hundred different ways, but only one would suit her. Fire. Huge flames to erase this blot from their lives and allow them to exist elsewhere. Without saying another word she exited the room. She silently left the house, her son and husband wordlessly following.

    They strode in silence to a highpoint on the property. She stood and looked down at the house, with its majestic arches and columns. She had been a proud young bride in this house, Lucius being everything and more that she wanted in a husband. Her son had been born and raised here. She loved Draco more than she had thought possible. For them, even more than for herself, she must do this. She raised her wand and pointed to the house.


  8. #18
    Sly Severus
    Name: Sly Severus
    House: Slytherin (Mod entry)
    Title: The House
    Warnings: None
    Words: 475

    The cold wind whipped the tears from her face as she ran, but she didn’t care. In that moment, there was very little she cared about beyond her mission. In such a short time, she had lost so much. If it weren’t for the poor defenseless child, depending on her, she might have ended it all. There was nothing left for her. Perhaps there had never been anything for her.

    She stopped running when the large mansion loomed before her. It was as dark and menacing as she remembered it. Deserted for years, it had taken on a feeling of neglect, but the despair caused behind those dark windows remained.

    The house had to burn. Everything that had went wrong in her life started behind those walls, with a family that forced evil upon its children the way a saner one would have forced good manners. Inside that house, she had been disowned by her family and tossed aside. Inside that house, her sister had been turned into a monster, capable of killing her own niece.

    Fresh tears streamed down her face at the thought of her daughter. Her sweet Dora—dead, at the hands of her own aunt. Her husband—dead because of a war started by her family. How could it have come to this?

    When she heard what became of her daughter she hadn’t been able to believe it. Surely, there had been some mistake. Dora couldn’t be dead. She had a son, a whole life ahead of her. Bella couldn’t do that. Andromeda knew her sister’s heart had hardened, but she couldn’t imagine her to be that far gone. All her life, Bella saw nothing but blood. Dora was her blood, and she killed her anyway.

    Staring at the house, her childhood home, she focused every bit of hatred she felt on her spell. As the words were spoken, the house burst into flames. Mad cackling escaped her lips as she watched it burn. She was killing the evil that rested within those walls. The evil that cost her sister her mind and her family their lives would be no more.

    For hours, she watched as the monstrous building burned. She felt as though a great weight was being lifted away. She was finally free from the curse placed upon her in that house. And its evil would never touch her sweet grandson. He would not be destroyed by the evil that took his mother.

    She remained in front of the house until the last ember was ash. Finally, she was able to smile. She had done the only thing she could do for her daughter. She destroyed the place where it all started. She destroyed the home where the hatred that killed her daughter had been taught.

    It was time for her to return to her grandson. Teddy needed her.

  9. #19
    Name: Cirelondiel / Chelsea
    House: Hufflepuff
    Title: Creation and Destruction
    Warnings: Character Death. It's not pleasant. Also DH spoilers.
    Words: 265


    It had seemed a wonderful burst of inspiration when he had conjured it. The Gryffindor scum had managed to dodge the killing curses he’d shot at them… but they wouldn’t be able to escape this. The Dark Lord would be pleased when he heard how Vincent, ever-underestimated Vincent Crabbe, had destroyed his master’s enemy, and whatever piece of junk Potter and his little friends were looking for.

    Fire. Fiendfyre.

    Triumph had surged inside Vincent when Potter’s face took on a look of absolute horror at the sight of the huge flames. Vincent felt powerful – he could destroy anything. The meddling trio could not survive this.

    Fire. Vincent had conjured the fire; he was the master of this destructive power.

    His triumph didn’t last long. The flames were growing, moving, reducing everything they touched to dust. He could not outrun it. He could not stop it.

    Raw panic gripped him. He ran wildly between the endless piles of junk; ahead of Draco, dragging Goyle with immense difficulty; ahead of Potter and his sidekicks.

    Fire. Fiendfyre. The flames were no longer just flames. They were alive; great burning creatures; ravenous.

    He could feel the fire’s hot breath all over him. Scorching, blistering heat. Smoke filled his eyes, nose, throat - choking fumes, dust.

    He was on the ground now. All hope was lost.

    A fierce, burning breath blew right in his ear. He raised his head, and could make out the blazing creatures descending upon him. He could not stand the heat…



    Vincent had created the destruction, and now his creation would destroy him.

  10. #20
    Sixth Year Slytherin
    De-gnoming the Garden

    Join Date
    Feb 2007
    somewhere close.....real close
    Title: Loving Molly
    Word Count: 495
    Warnings: Some sexual situations with Fem-slash. But considering the Polly Juice, you couldn’t technically call it slash…could you??

    Author’s note: This is a follow up to my drabble “Birthday Fools”. If you can, read that before you read this since it picks up from that part of the story.

    They laid the twins back in their beds. The April Fools stunt they had pulled knocked Fred and George back to sleep. Molly and Arthur (who still looked like Molly) both chuckled quietly as they looked down on their sons.

    The house was still quiet that morning. Molly and Arthur made their way to the kitchen to get breakfast started. As Molly whipped up the meal, she caught her husband looking at himself in the mirror. It made her heart skip to see him smile at her reflection. But then she saw him do something that made her eyebrows raise.

    Her husband, disguised as her, fondled his (her) body.


    He jolted at her voice, “Sorry, Molly. I couldn’t help it.”

    “What do you mean? You’re not thinking about going-“

    “NO, No, dear! I’m a man’s man,” he said as he promptly straightened his muumuu and hair rollers. “It’s just…”

    “Just what, dear?” Concern echoed in her voice and face.

    Arthur reached out and cupped her cheeks, “I never realized just how beautiful you are…until now…with your body.”

    He swept her into a passionate embrace, locking her lips to his. The heat of the moment took Molly aback. The difference she was feeling from the arms that held her sent her pulse racing.

    She knew that it was her husband that held her; yet it was in her body that reflected the desire that he felt. She could see the love that exuded from his eyes, even though it was her face that she looked into. And despite the distinctive curl in his smile, it was her soft lips that she felt against her mouth.

    “I want you,” he whispered hungrily against her neck. The next thing she knew, she and her husband laid bare on the rug in front of the fireplace.

    He gently stroked her skin that glowed by the light of the flames. She ran her hands through his hair as she looked at herself in a narcissistic way. She had never loved her husband liked this before…and she had never loved herself in this fashion, either.

    She felt alive!

    Just as she kissed her husband between his cleavage –


    The two looked to see an old bearded face, framed with half moon spectacles, staring back from the flames.

    “Good morning, Molly and.. Molly.”

    Molly’s nude body looked as red as her hair. She quickly pulled the area rug around them as she tried to conjure her robes. Yet her embarrassment left her magically disadvantaged.

    “Umm…morning, Dumbledore,” Arthur managed as he stumbled to reach for his muumuu.

    “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I wanted to wish the twins a Happy Birthday.” He chuckled as he turned away from the hearth.

    “No wait! It just-“

    “I understand, dear Molly… More than you know.” Dumbledore’s voice trailed off as he disappeared from the flames.

    “What do you think he meant by that?” Molly asked her husband.

    Arthur shrugged his shoulders, and then kissed his wife.

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