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Thread: Weekly Drabble Challenge - Theme: Snow - Results

  1. #1
    Ebil Gato Loco Ravenclaw
    He's The Dog... He's An Animagus...
    mugglemathdork's Avatar
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    Weekly Drabble Challenge - Theme: Snow - Results

    Your prompt for this first round is snow!
    It can be literal snow, or figurative snow, but the central theme of your drabble must be snow in some shape or form.

    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 (December 13th.)

    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~


    I've left moddom/fandom...though don't be surprised if I get caught lurking once in a blue moon.
    All questions pertinent to Ravenclaw need to be sent to ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor
    If you wish to keep in touch, feel free to friend me on LJ - I don't friend anyone under the age of 18. Sorry!

    Otherwise, so long, and thanks for all the fish!



  2. #2
    Third Year Gryffindor
    I'm a what?
    tc015's Avatar
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    Name: tc015
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: Purity
    Warnings: Minor DH Spoilers
    Words: 390

    Snow…so white and pure. It was amazing how it could stay so clean in an area of such sin and wrongdoing. With all the thieves and murderers that step on it each day, it was miracle it managed to stay so white, so clean. It was completely unlike him.

    Severus Snape was far from the perfect. Ask Potter and his little gang; they say what a sick, demented person Severus was. How the nasty Slytherin had tangled himself into a web of deceit and dark magic. They were right; Severus couldn’t deny that. But yet again, none of those four were exactly pure either. Potter was a harsh, cruel bully; Black’s mind was just as twisted as Severus’s. Pettigrew was a cowardly follower who went with whoever could give him the most power, and Lupin was a beast enclosed in human flesh. Not exactly pure as the snow either.

    “Sev,” a voice called from across the ground.

    There was a familiar blur of red in the distance, and Severus quickly looked down at the ground. Lily stopped in front of him, out of breath. She probably had to be the only pure person in the entire castle. She was so innocent and sweet, yet extremely wise. Lily was perfect, just as perfect as the snow beneath his feet.

    “Hello Lily,” Severus said. “Did you have fun in Hogsmeade?”

    “It was alright,” Lily replied. “I can’t understand why you didn’t want to come; Hogsmeade's amazing during the winter.”

    “I had other things to do,” he replied, not quite catching Lily’s gaze.

    “What? Please don’t tell me you were hanging out with Rosier and his gang again. They’re horrible people, Sev.”

    “No, I was just in the library,” Severus replied, trying not to look at her green eyes. Lily gave him a skeptical glance.

    “Look, it’s snowing,” he started, trying to change the subject. It worked because Lily looked up. She stuck out her hand, catching one of the snowflakes in her hand. She beamed brightly at Severus.

    “Isn’t the snow so beautiful?” Lily asked.

    “Yes, it is,” Severus replied as Lily grabbed his hand and led him up the pathway to Hogwarts castle.

    It was finally clear to him. The reason why the snow could stay so beautiful and pure was because wonderful people like Lily walked on it every day.

  3. #3
    Cwiddy
    Guest
    Name: Cwiddy
    House: Hufflepuff
    Title: First Snow
    Warnings: none
    Words: 360

    He sat there in silence. His heart was longing for the brother that was gone for several months now. A void left in his life that no one else could fill, and none seemed to understand why he was silent most of the time. He had yet to find his voice.
    Cold surrounded him and he looked up at the barren branches. His mother said that snow was in the air, but George would not believe it till he saw it. His heart was so cold…his tears dried up.

    Then she was there, wrapping her arms around him. His beautiful star, who understood the loss and the longing in his heart having been there before with her other half. She had started to melt his heart and finally tears rolled down his cheeks, and he turned towards her, embracing the woman who KNEW.

    George didn’t know how long they stood there, but when his tears had dried up and her own were wiped away on his sleeve he bent and their lips met in heated need. The cold still remained and there would be dark moments where the loss was still overwhelming, but he knew she would be there to help him through it…just as he would be there for her.

    “Look!” she exclaimed as their lips parted and he turned around to watch the snow start to fall around them. “Snow! Aurora always loved the first snow of the year…she said it was good luck to catch the first flakes on your tongue. Come on, catch a few!” Aria said laughing as she ran into the snow and opened her mouth to the delicate flakes.

    He stood there a minute and remembered similar moments with Fred as a child. Tears glistened in his eyes a minute more before he took off after the woman of his heart. Their laughter echoed back towards the Burrow.

    Molly Weasley looked out at the scene before her and knew that George would be ok in time. Mourning was normal, but Aria was the star of his heart and would keep the life in him until the time came for him to join Fred.

  4. #4
    xombie
    Guest
    Name: Xombie
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: A Winter Morning
    Warnings: DH spoilers (Is it still necessary?)
    Words: 332


    Scorpius stepped outside the castle, huddling his clothes closer as he did so. The air outside was chilly, and the ground was wet due to melting snow. He gazed upwards into the sky, waiting for signs of more snowfall. However, the vast expanse above him remained cloudless, and he looked back down, disheartened.

    He continued his brisk walk across the Hogwarts Grounds, breathing in the fresh air deeply, and closing his eyes to retain the freshness of the morning.

    ‘Oy! Is that the Scorpion? The one that breathes venom?’

    Scorpius clenched his fists. Trust Weasley and Gang to find me out. His anger mounted, as a huge ball of snow came whizzing through the air to hit him fiercely on the back of his head. Scorpius turned around, eyes flaring.

    ‘Move away, Weasel. You’ll be sorry to mess with me.’

    ‘Haven’t I already?’

    Both boys were now facing each other, looks of pure loathing flashing in their eyes.

    ‘Hugo, don’t! He doesn’t deserve it. How many times have I told you to leave him alone?’

    Scorpius threw a dirty glance at the red-haired girl who was trying to pull her brother away.

    ‘Let go of me, Rose. Malfoy needs to be taught a lesson for once and for all.’

    ‘That is all very well, Hugo. And I would be willing to accept your explanation if you had not provoked him first.’

    Smart girl. So unlike her brother. Smirking, Scorpius turned to walk away.

    ‘I’m not done with you, Malfoy!’ Hugo called out to the retreating figure. ‘Come back, you coward!’

    Scorpius continued to walk without letting Hugo’s words affect him in the least. But he stopped abruptly, when something cold brushed past his hair. His eyes narrowed as he felt around. Snowball. Once again. Let me… his thoughts were however interrupted when snow fell on his head again. And on his hands and face and shirt. In no time, it was falling thickly around him.

    Scorpius smiled to himself. It’s finally snowing.

  5. #5
    The Marauding Cupcake
    Guest
    Name: The Marauding Cupcake
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: Winter Wonderland
    Warnings:1st - 3rd
    Words:491

    He knew the moment he woke that it had come in the night. The one thing this time of year brought that turned even the surliest people almost giddy: snow. It signified the beginning of the holiday season and with it all the merriment and good tiding one could choke down. For most it brought the comforts of family, friends, and the inevitable outdoor activities, like being buried to your neck in a deep bank. For Severus Snape, snow was a nightmare.

    He’d never held a fondness for this time of year anyway. There’d been no holiday cheer for him at home. But the snow... He dreaded it, really. Severus did all he could to avoid being caught on the grounds, least Potter and company be on the loose. It was just his luck that his best friend, Lily, loved this time of year – especially the snow.

    He was supposed to meet her by the greenhouses so they could exchange their gifts and collect some ingredients for a potion he’d be working on for extra credit over the break. For the briefest moment, he thought to beg off sick but couldn’t bring himself to not see Lily before she left on holiday.

    The blanket on the ground was to his ankles and still coming down in a curtain before him. He grumbled to himself, wondering how anyone could find the phenomenon even the least bit romantic. It’s frozen atmosphere, for Merlin’s sake. Then again, picturing Lily with snowflakes caught in her hair and eyelashes... Severus reached the greenhouse where they’d agreed to meet and, not finding Lily there yet, allowed his thoughts to linger on her a while longer.

    This year he’d use this wintry incident to his benefit. Her cheeks would be rosy from the wind and the snow would be falling all around. He’d reach up to gently brush away the flakes that had settled on her cheeks and nose. Blushing, she would shiver. Asking her if the cold was too much for her, she would coyly reply that she could use some warming up. Then, Severus would make his move: he would take her into his arms, holding her tight, and not caring if their presents fell at their feet. He would finally get the only gift he’d dreamt of since meeting her, looking deeply into those emerald eyes; her soft lips would part invitingly and –

    “Ahhhh!”

    That fat arse, Pettigrew, came barrelling around the corner, careening into Severus and sending him sprawling into a bank of fresh powder. The three other idiots were in hot pursuit and stopped dead in their tracks upon finding the two boys laid flat in the snow.

    “Well, what do we have here?”

    “Looks like Snivellus is making snow angels. Lads, in the name of holiday spirit, let’s help the poor sod out!”

    He scrambled helplessly in the slick bank as they advanced on him.

    For Severus Snape, snow was a nightmare.
    ~Michelle

  6. #6
    apollo13
    Guest
    Oooooh, I'm the first Slythie!

    Name: apollo13
    House: Slytherin
    Title: Enough.
    Warnings: Minor language warning.
    Words: 364

    It was cold. That was the only thing that registered in his mind. It was very bitterly cold. He did not shiver. He was beyond that now.

    It was ironic, really, that the world could be so happy and the surroundings could be so beautiful yet he could be so… Sad? No, sad wasn’t strong enough. Full of despair? No, that wasn’t the quite way to explain it. Dread?

    Yes, that was it. It was a strange sense of dread, though dread of quite what he didn’t know, because the dreaded had already passed, already torn through the essence of… words were not enough. He felt a strange sense of dread for the future, because how could he go on when the world was so light and happy on the outside, but screaming with pain and anguish within?

    He could have laughed, he really could, but he didn’t know why. Maybe it was the bitter truth that he knew he deserved this torment, that he deserved to understand that it was his fault, all his fault…

    If he had just kept his mouth shut. If he had just ignored it, then none of this would have happened – none of it!

    His feet, numb with the perishing cold, crunched through the icy snow – trodden hard by the many children who ran around the small industrial town, sledges dragged along behind them. A flash of red caught his eye, and he turned to see that a child had crashed his sled at the bottom of the hill, and now warm blood was dripping over his fingers from his nose, tarnishing the grey-white snow underneath. The child ran off, bawling to his mother, but the blood was still splattered on the snow below. A tiny piece of colour in this black, white and grey town.

    This small stain of blood, in an entire town full of snow, but it was enough to leap out at him. Laughing, mocking… celebrating, just like the rest of the bloody world.

    And in this huge world, still bathing in joyous euphoria from two months ago, it seemed that Severus Snape was the only one who still grieved. But it was enough.
    ~Evie

  7. #7
    Weasleyboyfreak
    Guest
    Name: Weasleyboyfreak
    House:Hufflepuff
    Title: Bour Soir ((Beautiful Evening))
    Warnings: none
    Words: 436


    A warm glow could be seen through the icy windows of a small house as gentle snowflakes fell from and over cast sky. The soft chime of church bells could be heard in a distant valley. This charming evening was met with a peaceful breeze that floated through the air. The breeze rustled a small ivy wreath, laced with bells, on the door. The lone tree in the yard was covered in a thin layer of sparkling snow, offset by a full moon.

    Inside the house, a man with bright red hair sat rocking a toddler with auburn curls in front of a fireplace. The warmth inside the house made the snow outside seem like a forgotten scene on a beautiful Christmas card. It was this atmosphere that made the home so welcoming.

    Suddenly, the front door opened, sending in a flurry of lost snowflakes. A woman with a mess of brown frizzy curls revealed herself from beneath her hooded cloak.

    “It’s a nightmare out there. St. Mungo’s has been busy all night,” Hermione said, taking a seat in front of the fire, the white flakes melting on her gentle skin. “How’s Rose?”

    “Perfect,” Ron said with a smile as he tickled his daughter’s chin, causing her to giggle. A tender smile formed on Hermione’s face. “She’s been quiet all night.”

    “Thank goodness,” Hermione sighed, “I thought she was coming down with a cold. I had hoped that my diagnoses was incorrect. It didn’t add up in my Healer books--”

    “Hermione,” Ron interrupted softly, "Mum said that it’s probably just Rosie’s developing magic ability.”

    It was then that the couple heard a soft rapping on the door.

    “Who would be here at this hour?” Hermione asked as Ron set Rose down on the floor. The pair looked out the window at white laced country side, looking for their visitor.

    The couple walked over to the door. However, when they opened it, they found nothing but a small, perfectly wrapped, blue box.

    “Who sent this?” Ron asked, looking incredulously into the distance.

    He shivered slightly from the cold, soft snowflakes falling into his ginger hair. He looked to his wife, only to discover that she was covered with glittering specks of snow.

    “I don’t know,” Hermione answered simply, stepping out into the snow covered yard to look for a trace of the secret deliverer.

    In the midst of this event, the couple missed the toddler clumsily following behind them. Rose reached out a small hand, catching gentle snowflakes, a one-toothed smile plastered on her face. The snow melted upon contact with the two-year-old's soft skin.

    “Swofake.”

  8. #8
    tibi jones
    Guest
    Name: Tibi Jones
    House: Huff-n-puff
    Title: Far From Home
    Warnings: AU
    Words: 495

    Camp Abu Naji never looked so good as it did today. It was Christmas Eve and Charlie Weasley wiped sweat from his brow despite the mild weather. The body of Corporal Bascom lay unmoving on the dirty deck of the Warrior Infantry Fighting Vehicle.

    A dark congealed pool of blood had collected in the right corner of the troop compartment. Corporal Bascom’s skull had failed to contain the 7.62 mm bullet that had entered just above his left eye. The smell of cordite and blood lingered thickly within the stuffy confines of the vehicle.

    Charlie shook his head. Bloody fool, he thought bitterly. If he had only kept his head down the entire squad would have survived the sixteen hour battle they had emerged from an hour before. Poor bugger.

    It had been eight years since Charley had stood over the broken body of his little brother, a lifetime ago. Since then he had spent five years with the Legion and the last three in the British Army. His solace was only to be found near death.

    He was not morbid about it. He suspected that he would not mind dying himself, but wouldn’t actively seek it prematurely. It would have been pointless. The entire family had been shaken to its foundation by Fred’s death.

    Others had lost family. Young Teddy, for example, would never have the memories Charlie and his family have. Somehow though, nothing was enough to assuage the loss for the Weasleys. Each had found their own manner for dealing with the hole left in the tightly knit group.

    George and Father had turned to drink, Mum deluded herself that Fred was just on holiday. The younger two were least affected somehow, but still they suffered. Bill had moved to France to work for Fleur’s Father and Percy was still Percy, though Charlie postulated that he cried himself to sleep at night.

    Charlie had been unable to return to his position. Dealing with Dragons was dangerous, no doubt, but it was an uncompromising survival instinct that motivated them. Man, however, was different.

    He found he could forget the past by living for the moment. The comradery of combat appealed to him. He had forsaken the wizarding world for its pettiness. He had not used magic since that morning standing with his family staring at the broken bodies in the Great Hall.

    Bascom had been a good kid. He’d talked incessantly about Christmas on the Loch Achray. How the snow was what he missed most of home; that winter in Iraq did not feel right to him. The more he mulled over Bascom the stronger his resolve tempered.

    By the time Bascom’s body was reverently lain upon a litter next to the Warrior, the temperature had dropped nearly seventeen degrees. Charlie stood over him, looking down at the fractured corpse, he was the only one present who was unsurprised when the first snow flake rested softly upon the cheek of their fallen brother.

  9. #9
    Striped_Candycane
    Guest
    Name: Striped_Candycane
    House: Ravenclaw
    Title: Snowing Hope
    Warnings: Deathly Hallows Spoilers
    Words: 496


    The ticking of the Muggle watch on her wrist weaves through the darkness. Hermione squints her eyes, trying to make out the numbers on its dimly lit face. Five minutes until midnight.

    She sighs and rolls over on her stomach. She can see the Harry’s motionless silhouette in the entrance to the tent, a velvet cut-out against the moonlit darkness beyond. She wonders if she should get up and relieve him from his watch, even though her turn is in five minutes. It isn’t as if she is going to sleep anyways. She hasn’t slept for weeks.

    She gets up, grabs her cloak, and steps outside. A single nod is all she and Harry exchange, and then he disappears inside.

    The wood looks beautiful in the starlight. Dark, wild, untouched. Patches of bare mud show through the melting snow, but at least the moon is nice and full, a silvery eye watching over them all.

    An image rises unbidden to her mind: herself and a boy with red hair, hand in hand looking up at the stars. He whispers something in her ear, she laughs…

    No. No no no no. She closes her eyes and shakes her head frantically. Ron is gone. He isn’t coming back.

    She can remember the day he left. There hadn’t been any snow then. It had been raining, and she had run after him, screaming his name, but the curtain of rain had swallowed him up and she had fallen into the mud sobbing…

    And now she was angry at him, angry enough to hit something. Angry enough to burst into tears at random moments. Like right now…

    The tears are hot, they warm her numb face, her frozen nose. She wipes them away angrily nonetheless. She had never wanted to cry for anyone, especially not Ron Weasley. Not that immature, stubborn-as-hell Ron Weasley. She tells herself to stop it. The tears will freeze on your face, Hermione. It will only wear you out, Hermione.

    She takes great, shuddering breaths of the cold night air, and eventually feels calm enough to return to watching the silent flakes now tumbling from the sky.

    The snow covers the ugly. White covers the mud. It spreads out before her like a virgin page. She still has time to write, he still has time to change. She still has time to change. There will always be snow to bring a fresh new start…

    She thinks she hears footsteps, but she isn’t afraid. Not yet.

    “Ron?” She whispers the word, but her voice does not quiver. She is hopeful.

    There is only silence.

    With a sigh, she reaches into the tent and pulls out A History of Magic. Before she becomes fully immersed in the book she thinks she sees someone through the trees, she thinks she hears a faint cry: Hermione!

    But then again, perhaps it is only the wind in the trees. Perhaps it is only her imagination forming futures on the newborn snow.

  10. #10
    theworldonlyknows
    Guest

    Cool, soothing snow.

    Name: theworldonlyknows
    House: Slytherin
    Title: Cool, soothing snow.
    Warnings: 1st-2nd year.
    Words: 500

    The stain-glass pains in the window were beginning to fog in the corners slightly. The condensation revealed the old notes and faces that had been drawn probably by a board first year Gryffindor finishing a three parchment long potions essay for Professor Snape.

    The Gryffindor common room had the same warm inviting ambience as always, the ever increasing threat of the Dark Lord’s return was slowly tumbling away like the soft gentle snowflakes that had just begun falling outside.

    Harry Ron and Hermione were sat knotted together on one of the comfy maroon armchairs, the one closest to the fire. Hermione found it intoxicating being this close to Ron; she felt his warm scent drifting in and out of her nostrils, his warm touch gently blessing her side. Her mind began to wander off the subject of transfiguration and on to how utterly breathtaking it would be to sit head rested against his chest, his strong arms gently circling hers as he breathed slowly into her ear.

    Hermione sat up suddenly after Harry began shaking her violently, as she realised the destination of her thoughts her face turned as red as a cherry. She whirled round and looked straight into Ron’s warm and loving eyes. Her thoughts of her recent day-dream came flooding into her conscious mind. She shook her head quickly, and turned to Harry and muttered something about a long walk.

    Hermione dashed out of the common room through the portrait hole. As she was in the middle of the third corridor that she hastened too, she slowed down and stopped to breathe deeply.

    “What is happening to me?” she thought exasperated. “I’m in love with Ron. I can’t be! I just can’t”

    “You just can’t be what Granger?” Draco Malfoy asked mockingly.

    “Did I just say that out loud?” Hermione thought extremely embarrassed.

    “You did Granger, anything that I can help with?” Malfoy added with a malicious smirk.

    “No!” She answered rather forcefully, too forcefully in fact. “I think I can manage my thoughts without your input thank you,” She retorted.

    “Suit yourself!” Draco answered with an evilly twisted smile.

    Hermione looked in his piercing steel eyes and saw the unintentional humour that she had given him. She turned round sharply to follow her footsteps in the other direction, whilst hearing the spiteful bouts of laughter from Draco.

    Hermione felt the rage of embarrassment surge through her veins; she shook her head much to the amusement of the portraits who thought that she was loosing her mind. She wandered through the corridors until she approached the archway leading to the grounds.

    Hermione approached the fountain in the middle of the courtyard. She felt the cold droplets of snow melt and trickle down her skin. She looked up to the top of Gryffindor tower; she felt the humiliation flood through her being. She collapsed into the snow, needing the snow, letting the coldness consume her and all her troubles melted away with the aid of the tumbling snow.

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