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Thread: Weekly Drabble Challenge - Word Beads #3

  1. #11
    Pius
    Guest
    Name: Pius
    House: Ravenclaw
    Title: I'm Wiccan, if that's what you mean
    Warnings: none
    Words: 498

    The island of Ocracoke was a quiet place in winter, when the tourists had gone home and residents settled down to watch the fog roll in offshore. Marissa had been contemplating those grey mists when inexplicably a television dropped from the sky.

    She blinked, and looked again. She thought she saw two figures where the object had landed. Afflicted with intense curiousity, despite her mother’s disapproval, she grabbed her coat and ran towards the beach.

    “Hello?” she called, approaching the strangers. They were teenage boys, twins; too young for her, sadly, but with dashing red hair. They were bickering and hadn’t heard her.

    “Hello?”

    They stopped shouting and turned towards her. They looked stunned, as though caught at some crime. She laughed at their stricken expressions.

    “You look as though you’ve seen a ghost!” she said, then extended her hand. “I’m Marissa. I live here. Though,” she paused, bringing her hand back to her chin in a contemplative stance, “you know, Blackbeard’s ghost lives here too. Have you seen him?” She was also afflicted with an overactive imagination, which, fueled by local legends, had convinced her that she would find the pirate. Her mother didn’t know, or she would have disapproved of that too.

    The redheads looked at her suspiciously.

    “Are you a witch?” one asked.

    “Why yes,” she replied, “but-”

    “Good! You can help us!”

    They now moved excitedly, taking position on either side of her, and began chattering about Blackbeard’s buried treasure.

    “No one’s found it!” said Left.

    “But we will,” said Right, “and be rich!”

    “Yeah,” said Left, “we hate being poor.”

    Marissa simply nodded, as they prattled about piles of gold and vacation homes in Barcelona. Why did they care if I’m Wiccan? she thought. It was an odd question, but she decided she didn’t care about the religious leanings of the mysterious boys. She would treat them as Kindred Spirits and Fellow Treasure Hunters merely.

    “Here.”

    She stopped and pointed to a cave. “Here’s where Blackbeard hid the gold. There’s probably other stuff too. How exciting to have been there, with famous pirates, eating oranges and chocolate rum balls!” She assumed that was the sort of things pirates might eat, exotic and alcoholic at the same time. She peered into the cave.

    “It’s rather dark in here.”

    “Lumos!”

    Suddenly she could see Left beside her, holding a flashlight… no…a wand? Her eyes widened.

    “What is it, Marissa?”

    Before she could stutter astonishment, an owl swooped in and dropped a red envelope into Right’s outstretched hand. He looked guiltily at his brother.

    “Uh-oh.”

    The envelope exploded.

    “AN UNAUTHORIZED TRANS-ATLANTIC PORTKEY??? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MINDS?” A booming voice shook the walls.

    “It’s dad,” Left said to Right. “We’d better go.”

    They ran outside, Marissa following. They stopped by the television, each grabbing a rusted rabbit ear.

    “Goodbye Marissa,” said Right.

    “Thanks,” said Left.

    “Goodbye. You’re welcome.” She had a million questions, but those instinctual social niceties were all she could think to say.
    Wow. These words just really don't want to come together do they... ah well, it was fun trying.

    -Pius

  2. #12
    Third Year Gryffindor
    I'm a what?
    tc015's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2006
    Location
    Chaos
    Posts
    70
    Name: tc015
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: Blood and Blackbeard
    Word Count: 265
    Warnings: mentions of blood

    Blood…such a comforting and familiar smell. Fenrir looked out into the ocean, where the shark was currently attacking a young girl. Popping a chocolate rum ball into his mouth, he continued to watch the show, offshore on the coast of beautiful Barcelona.

    How he wished he could be the shark at the moment; it had been days since he could get a taste for human flesh. He lived to bite; it was the wondrous curse set upon him by the werewolf who bit him when he just twelve years old. It was such a shock to his parents, who were ignorant Muggles.

    His father was a historian with a love for pirate lore. Growing up, Fenrir’s favorite pirate was Blackbeard, the most feared pirate on the sea. In a strange way, Blackbeard was his idol. As a young boy, he would read any book he found about Blackbeard and watch every television program that mentioned his name. Fenrir wanted to be the strongest, the most feared person in the world. He didn’t want to be average; he wanted to extraordinary. Thanks to his bite, he was.

    Getting up slowly, he walked to the water. It was no longer crystal clear, but blood red. He scooped the liquid up into his hands, and inhaled it. It was refreshing, though the taste of blood was a little weak. At least he finally had the chance to taste it. It invigorated him, like a glass of orange juice does for a sick child. He silently thanked the shark as he walked back to his spot on the beach.

  3. #13
    Pondering
    Guest
    Name: Pondering
    House: Ravenclaw
    Title: A Kiss in the Rain
    Word Count: 499
    Warnings: N/A

    The rain fell softly on the Barcelona street. Hermione did not even feel the drops touch her head as she walked at a brisk pace, a basket of fruit swinging slowly from her wrist.

    She climbed up the stairs to her little flat and placed her purchases in a wooden bowl. Slowly, she squeezed an orange in her hand, appreciating how relieving it was to put all her energy into the task. An image of the person who she was angry at formed in her mind, and she squeezed the orange harder.

    Slowly, she set it down. The poor orange had done nothing to deserve such treatment. It was his fault Hermione was angry. His face again came into her mind again and the compulsion to grab the orange was hard to resist.

    She slumped over to the couch, picked up the television remote, and pointed it to the TV. Unfortunately, the only programmes she could find all seemed to be about young couples falling in love and kissing in the rain. She sighed. It was just too painful to think about romance right now.

    Instead, she dug around her reading pile for something to keep her mind off him. First she tried Hogwarts: A History, an old favourite, but the familiar paragraphs did not sooth her. Next she skimmed the first few pages of The Blackbeard Conspiracy: Was He Really a Wizard? but for once she found it difficult to immerse herself in the threads of history, because try as she might, she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

    They had argued with each other again and Hermione couldn’t take it longer. She told him that she was going to go to Barcelona for a little while, to experience the magical culture and spend a few days offshore relaxing in a small boat. In reality, she just wanted to get away from it all. Get away from him.

    However, this time, it wasn’t his fault, it was hers. She had never told him she wasn’t coming home.

    She wasn’t angry at him. She was angry at herself. Angry at herself for not forgiving him earlier, for not staying behind to work out their difficulties, for not knowing that even though he made her angry, she would always love him.

    There was a small knock at the door, and Hermione moved up slowly to answer it. However, when she opened it, there was only a box lying on the doorstep, wrapped in plain green paper. Curiously, she looked at the attached tag.

    I’m sorry, Hermione.

    I hope you still enjoy chocolate rum balls.

    Love,

    Ron.

    Her fingers started trembling around the tag, clutching it as tightly as she had squeezed the orange. The rain pelted down harder, making her hair stick to the edges of her face. In the distance she saw a red-haired figure make its way down a winding alley.

    Taking her shaking hand to her mouth, she blew him a kiss he would not see. “I’m sorry too.”
    --Tash

  4. #14
    XhayleeXblackX
    Guest
    Name: XhayleeXblackX
    House: Slytherin
    Title: Documentary
    Word Count: 254
    Warnings: None
    Harry stood in the doorway of the kitchen watching as Dudley shoveled potato chips into his large mouth by the handful. He was watching his new television, having broken the last one. What really intrigued Harry was that he was watching a documentary.

    “I have to say, Dudley, I’m impressed,” he stated, leaning against the doorframe.

    “Why?” asked Dudley thickly.

    “You’re watching something educational,” he answered plainly.

    “No, I’m not. This is about Blackbeard the Pirate and his awesome adventures offshore of Spain,” Dudley argued incredulously, his eyes darting from Harry to the television.

    Harry rolled his eyes and said, “That’s what a documentary is you fat lump.”

    “Oh yeah, well he killed a man in Barcelona with an orange. Just like this,” Dudley remarked, grabbing an orange from the table and throwing it at Harry, who ducked just in time.

    “Nice one Big D, you could be a world class pirate someday with that aim of yours,” he said sarcastically.

    “Shut up or I’ll tell Mum that you ate those chocolate rum balls she made for the Christmas party,” Dudley threatened, standing up to make himself look more intimidating.

    However, Harry had something up his sleeve that Dudley feared beyond anything. Harry pulled out his wand and walked over to stand in front of Dudley.

    “What was that Dudders? Were you going to tell Mummy something?” he taunted, waving his wand in Dudley’s face.

    “N-no!” Dudley yelled, eyes opened wide with fear while his hands clasped his buttocks as he fled the room.

  5. #15
    Heather25x
    Guest
    Name: Heather25x
    House: Hufflepuff
    Title: A Mermaid's Cry For Help
    Word Count: 497
    Warnings: None.

    ‘Ginny, have you seen my chocolate rum balls?’ Harry asked his wife, searching through the pockets of his robes. Ginny popped her head round the door to see Harry.

    ‘No I haven’t, sorry. Check the living room.’

    Harry entered the cosy living room, only to find his three children jumping around on the furniture, holding plastic swords and wearing eye patches. The room was in total chaos.

    ‘What is going on here?’ Harry shouted over the noise. The children stopped moving at once.

    ‘We’re playing pirates, Daddy!’ said Albus excitedly, ‘I’m Blackbeard, arg, me matey!’

    ‘Do you want to play, Daddy?’ James asked politely.

    Harry, deciding he would rather relax in his room with his chocolate rum balls and a brochure for a holiday to Barcelona, quickly located his sweets and left his children to it.

    ‘I want to play!’ Lily cried, trying to snatch the pirate’s hat from Albus. Albus pointed his plastic sword at his sister.

    ‘No! You have to stay offshore!’ he said.

    ‘But I want to fight!’ Lily said, bouncing on the chair.

    ‘You can’t!’ Albus said, matter-of-factly, ‘you have to be the mermaid, captured on an island while we fight to rescue you!’

    As the two boys turned away from their sister and began to fight again, Lily furiously picked up an orange from the fruit bowel on the coffee table and threw it at Albus. Her aim being very much off target, the boys continued to fight without another glance at Lily.

    ‘Arg, me matey,’ Albus cried, thrusting his sword towards James, ‘ye will never get the mermaid. She is mine now, arg.’

    ‘NEVER!’ James roared and ran towards Albus. They duelled with their swords, as Lily shrieked and cheered from the sofa.

    Albus hopped on top of a chair, holding his sword in front of him, ‘arg, ye will never catch me now. Surrender, you fool, as no one can defeat Blackbeard!’ He twirled his sword impressively between his fingers, but, with a squeal, the sword slipped from his hands, soared through the air and crashed onto the television, sending the ornaments on top of it flying.

    The children gazed around at each other, mouths open wide.

    ‘Ooooh, you’re in trouble now, Albus!’ Lily whispered with delight, clapping her hands together.

    ‘No I’m not! It was an accident!’ Albus cried, frozen to his spot on the chair, ‘please don’t tell Mummy!’

    Lily seemed to consider this for a moment, but the opened the living room door wide and called out. ‘MUU-MMY!’ She screamed.

    Ginny came rushing in, a tea towel in her hands, looking bewildered, ‘what?’ she said stared around the room. Ginny gasped as she caught sight of her broken ornaments on the floor, ‘what has been going on here?’ she asked furiously.

    As Albus stuttered before the gaze of his angry mother, Lily hopped over to the door, and then turned to Albus, ‘that’s for not letting me play,’ she said, and then skipped out of the room.

  6. #16
    Mollie Black
    Guest
    Name: Mollie Black
    House: Slytherin
    Title: Party Anyone?
    Word Count: 492
    Warnings: None

    Her eyes sparkled as scribbled fiercely on a small bit of parchment. Meanwhile, her husband looked over her shoulder wearily.

    "'Mione?" Ron gulped, "Are you sure we can handle this?"

    "Of course we can," she replied, not looking up from her paper. "I only want to invite a few people."

    "A few people? You've already got 50 names on the list, and you're writing more!"

    "Don't be a prat, Ronald, it'll be fun! Besides, only about half the people on the list will actually show up."

    Assuming she was focusing all of her attention on the list in front of her, Ron began mimicking her from the couch across the room. Without looking up, Hermione reached over to the bowl on the end table, selected a large orange, and threw it at Ron.

    Realizing the party was not a laughing matter, Ron decided feigning interest would be safer than mocking his wife.

    "Er... what are we going to do at this party?"

    "Well," Hermione suddenly stopped writing to explain, "I was thinking we could find a television to watch the ball drop like I used to with my parents."

    "To watch the what?"

    "And," she continued, ignoring Ron's interjection, "I thought we could have all sorts of snacks and desserts."

    "Can we have some of those chocolate rum balls like we had at that hotel in Barcelona?"

    Thrilled that Ron was getting into the spirit of the party, she happily agreed.

    "Of course we can! And we'll have to have your mum make a cake! I've never managed to make one as good as your mum's. And remember that boat that was an offshore restaurant? They served the most delicious rice pudding. We'll have to have some of that also!"

    Ron nodded, silently wondering what he had gotten himself into by agreeing to this party.

    "Oh, and I've forgotten the most important part!" She stood up and grabbed Ron's hands as she forced him to spin in a circle with her. "It's going to be a costume party, and I've already gotten you a costume!"

    Ron froze and stared at Hermione. "You've gotten me an outfit already?" Pictures of teddy bears and other cute things were running through his mind.

    Hermione suddenly looked less excited. "I thought you wouldn't mind... I tried to pick something that would suit you."

    "Well, what is it?"

    "It's a Blackbeard costume."

    Ron suddenly got genuinely excited about the party. "Like the pirate?"

    Hermione was relieved that she had picked the right thing. "Of course! What did you think I'd gotten you, a teddy bear suit?"

    Ashamed that he had thought such a thing, he laughed and denied ever considering that possibility.

    "Ron, thank you so much for letting me have this party." She threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly. "It means so much to me."

    "Anything for you 'Mione."

    Hermione smiled and settled down on the couch to finish the party plans.

  7. #17
    Striped_Candycane
    Guest
    Name: Striped_Candycane
    House: Ravenclaw
    Title: A Miserable Existence
    Word Count: 499
    Warnings: Very Mild Sexual Situation

    It was, all in all, a miserable existence, thought Petunia Evans as she gazed idly at the television screen.

    She wouldn't normally engage in such an activity - there was something sluggish about watching TV that she instinctively disliked - and so she sat on the lumpy couch awkwardly, straight as a poker, hands pleated in her lap, as if she didn't quite know how this was done. But she didn't have anything else to do: the girl she would gossip with, Lydia, was off in Barcelona, the boy next door was visiting relatives in God-knows-where.

    This boy next door was nameless because the only time she would ever see him was while looking out the window in her room, the glass creating a barrier through which sound could not penetrate. She would watch him come out on the porch with a girl, all long sandy blond hair and sun-kissed cheeks, who would toss her head back and expose her glitter-white teeth and laugh. And then the boy without a name would kiss her wetly and they would sit entwined, fully engrossed for hours. Petunia would sniff at the lewdness of it all, but for some reason could not tear her eyes away.

    It was good that the nameless boy was gone, she told herself firmly. Very good.

    And the television show wasn't half bad: one of those home makeovers. She didn't really like the before pictures, or the way the makeover was done, she just liked the way the rooms would look when they were finished. All pristine and new, everything neat in its place. Nothing clashed.

    She scowled as a commercial for orange juice came on. Drink this, and you will be immediately transported to a tropical paradise. Drink this, and you will never float offshore. She sucked her cheeks in. It was growing to be a habit.

    Now a smooth-skinned woman was advertising skin cream. And yet this woman was flawless, with her soft shining lips and perfect complexion and beautiful arching eyebrows...

    Petunia switched off the TV, watching with satisfaction as that faultless face winked out of existence.

    A box of chocolate rum balls sat next to her. That Snape boy had been in, looking for Lily. Petunia had taken great satisfaction in telling him that his darling little witch refused to see him. Lily hated him now. But would Petunia give her the box of rum balls? Yes. Of course she would.

    Or not.

    She opened the box and popped one into her mouth. Not bad, she thought as she chewed triumphantly. She hadn't forgotten that the Snape boy had cursed her. These things were hard to forgive.

    There was a book on the small table next to the sofa. She picked it up, popped another rum ball into her mouth, and read the title: Blackbeard, Terror of the Seas. She opened it up and hungrily began to read the sordid tale of murder and betrayal.

    How she hated pirates. They were so unhygienic.

  8. #18
    Stubbornly_appeared
    Guest

    Drabble.

    Name: Stubbornly_appeared
    House: Gryffindor.
    Title: The Last Few Men on Earth
    Word Count: 433.
    Warnings: Substance (chocolately substance) abuse, sexual innuendo. *wink, wink*

    Out in the Forbidden Forest, four dazed teenage boys lay on the ground, looking for all the world the last few men on Earth. Their faces seemed to be smeared with some sort of bizzarre brown war paint. Countless golden pieces of foil were scattered around them.

    "Peter, Peter, where'd you say you'd got these chocolate rum balls?" James slurred.

    Peter grinned hazily. "Took them from me... me mum and dad's room. They said they'd been saving them, they'd gotten them from Barcelona when they went there last spring- best rum balls around, they said!"

    "That, they are!" Sirius chimed, rolling over onto his stomach and staring at the stars.

    After an unnatural silence, he piped up again.

    "What's that Muggle thing called?" Sirius asked. "The thingy witha glowing picture, y'know? Moving colours and sounds. Telly, hellyvisor, 'ellyfishin'?"

    Remus chuckled. "Television. That's what it's called." He hiccuped. "Moon's bright tonight."

    "It is!" James said.

    Sirius wrapped his arm over Remus' shoulder. "Howl for me, Remus. Howl to your wolf brothers!" He snickered.

    Groaning, Remus punched him playfully on the shoulder. "You prat. Why in the name of Merlin's... peg leg would I howl?"

    "Moon's bright," Peter noted sagely. James nodded.

    "AAWWWWOOOOOOOOOOO!" Remus called, suddenly and loudly. Several birds flew out of the trees. "AAAAAWOOOOO-WOOOO-WOO-WOOOOOOOOO!"

    All four boys rolled in hilarity over the ground.

    "ARRROOO! ARRRROO!" Sirius mimicked. He gasped for air, tears of mirth crinkling from his eyes and reflecting in the moonlight.

    Peter murmured something incoherent.

    "What's that?"

    "I said you sounded like a pirate, Padfoot. Like a bleeding pirate! Arrrrgh!" Peter said, springing to his feet.

    James lept up as well. "Blackbeard, scourge of the seas! Black-beard!" He dissolved into laughter, tugging Sirius and Remus to their feet. "Hearthrob of the ladies, both of the land and offshore!" He shoved Sirius, who tumbled into Remus.

    "Mermaids, Sirius?" Remus sniggered. "Like the fishy ones, eh? Tails, too! That must make certain 'activities' difficult!"

    Sirius swaggered. "You- you werewolf!"

    "You.. you pirate!" They pounced on eachother while James and Peter exhanged looks before joining in the rift. Cries of "argh!" and "avast" and "awoo" permeated the night. Finally, the four boys collapsed onto the ground again and lay in a heap.

    Silence overtook them again. One could almost hear the stars twinkle and listen to the whispers of friendship.

    "Did they name the orange after the colour, or did the fruit come first?" Sirius splurted.

    "No idea," chorused James, Peter, and Remus at once, and they all began to laugh some more.
    Is it even possible to get drunk off rum balls?

    -Stubby

  9. #19
    leahsm2
    Guest
    Name:leahsm2
    House: Slytherin
    Title: Mr. Weasley Has a Bad Day
    Word Count: 454
    Warnings: None


    Mr. Weasley looked at the Muggle device with dismay. He had been told it was called a television. Basically, it was some sort of crude communication instrument used by Muggles to disseminate information. Unfortunately, this one had been rigged to dispense chocolate rum balls through its appendages, which as near as Arthur could figure out were known as “Speakers.” The Blackbeard who had charmed it had attempted to smuggle it out of Barcelona in a normal shipment of caldrons. The offshore office had managed to intercept it before it fell into Muggle hands. Now that it was safely in Arthur’s possession, he had been given the task of dismantling the magic and reporting on just exactly how it had been enchanted.

    Arthur idly picked at the orange he had saved from his lunch. He twirled the knobs of the television, knowing that without eckeltricity they were useless. Clever, those Muggles, Arthur thought, as more chocolate rum balls came careening out of the mesh- covered sides, They do so much with so little.

    Arthur took his wand and opened the back of the set. He poked about at the wiring, which caused an avalanche of the small balls to cascade across his desk and onto the floor. He attempted to clear up the mess with a simple Scourging spell, but that only caused the small balls to amass into one very large ball. Undaunted, Mr. Weasley next tried a more complex Vanishing spell, which only made the ball grow larger. Alarmed, Mr. Weasley decided to Transfigure the ball into a harmless liquid, which he figured he could then easily absorb into his wand. Unfortunately, when Arthur attempted to change the matter, it only caused the ball to increase in size. By now, Mr. Weasley was smashed up against the wall of his small office. He managed to ooze his way through the melting edges of the chocolate mountain and escape through the window.

    Mr. Weasley, who was now covered in chocolate that would not disappear through any normal wizarding means, refused to admit defeat. He stormed back to his office and stood outside the door, pondering the situation. Finally, it came to him. The Barcelona office had assumed this was wizard magic, but what if it wasn’t. Of course, thought Arthur, as he careened down the hall.

    He returned to his office accompanied by Dorset, the head house elf for the Ministry, who made short work of the chocolate mountain. It seemed that the television had been enchanted by house elves as a present for their family, but had been intercepted by the smugglers, bent on making mischief. Arthur sat down at his now clean desk and wrote his report, happy that order had been restored.

  10. #20
    Ebil Gato Loco Ravenclaw
    He's The Dog... He's An Animagus...
    mugglemathdork's Avatar
    Join Date
    May 2006
    Location
    retired to EbilVille
    Posts
    1,307
    Congrats to the following drabblers:
    First Place:
    Blood and Blackbear by tc015

    Second Place:

    A Miserable Existence by Striped_Candycane

    Third Place:

    A Kiss in the Rain by Pondering

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