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Thread: The Character Gymnasium

  1. #131
    Wizengamot Hufflepuff
    Kill the Spare
    Equinox Chick's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jun 2008
    using rare and complicated words
    Name: Equinox Chick
    House: Hufflepuff
    Original Character: Martha Macdonald
    Title: Seeker Uncovered
    Ratings and Warnings: 3rd-5th. Implied Sexual situation (very mild). Mild Profanity.
    Word Count: 699
    Author's Note: Martha's a Quidditch player, so I figured her first day in her new job would be actually playing a match. She also has an on/off relationship with a certain Marauder.
    And I want to say thank you to BB because he listened to me wittering on about the plot.

    Martha Macdonald woke early on Saturday. It was five a.m. and normally she’d try to get some more sleep, but today was different. Today Martha was starting her new job and she was as nervous as hell.

    She got up and walked around the flat that had been provided for her. Glancing out of the window, she could see the sun already climbing in a cloudless sky. The conditions looked perfect for the game.

    On leaving Hogwarts, Martha had been signed by the Calais Cygnes – one of France’s best Quidditch teams. She was supposed to be a reserve – cover for Gabriella Dijon – but Gabriella had pulled out of the team unexpectedly yesterday and so Martha was called on to play.

    She knew what a huge chance this was. If she played well, then perhaps she could keep her place, but Dijon, despite her increasingly erratic behaviour off the pitch, was popular all over France. She was glamorous to look at and exciting to watch. Martha didn’t think the French crowd would take kindly to an English girl taking their sweetheart’s place.


    The Cygnes fans had not gone so far as to boo when her name was read out, but she heard a rumble of discontent when they realised that Dijon would not be playing. Merlin, it’s not my fault! she thought. Nothing short of catching that Snitch would pacify them.

    She kicked off into the air and the feel of the light breeze as it rushed through her hair made Martha smile. This was why she loved Quidditch. In the air she left her nerves on the ground.

    A groan erupted from the crowd. Looking down, Martha saw the Paris Papillions’ Chaser Jean-Claude Fourriet had opened the scoring. Fourriet barely stopped to acknowledge the applause from the Papillion fans who had made the journey here. He was a superb athlete and a consummate professional. He flew back into the fray, dodging a Bludger and narrowly missing out on his second goal.

    Martha watched in awe. And I thought James was good, she muttered under her breath.

    “Macdonald,” yelled her captain. “Stop watching that bastard Fourriet. Keep your eye out for the Snitch.”

    Martha snapped her eyes away from Jean-Claude and resumed her search. Something was glinting near the ground. Her heart stopped. It was the Snitch! She could save this game and maybe endear herself to the crowd. She dove down, but her sudden movement had alerted the Papillion Seeker. Martha had never played against him, but she knew Andrew McLintock was a dirty player. She’d watched him for Scotland, many times and realised he would stop at nothing to make the catch ahead of her.

    She sped up; McLintock followed close behind. He tried to grab at her broom, but wise to that trick, Martha swerved. His hand grabbed at her shirt instead. Trying to free herself, but also keeping her eye on the Snitch, Martha jerked her broom around. She felt and heard her shirt rip.

    “Nooo!” she screeched as she tried to manoeuvre away from McLintock’s grasp. The Snitch buzzed in front of her, but Martha was trying to fend off her opponent, hold her shirt together, and hold onto her broom. She made a split second decision and, kicking wildly at McLintock, wrenched free and then made the catch.

    Yes! she thought and smiled widely.

    Her shirt fluttered in the breeze and finally gave up any pretence that it was clothing. Ripped down one side, it slowly slid off her shoulder. Martha groaned. It had not been a good idea to fly bra-less.

    The crowd went wild. They had lost Dijon, but they adored their new Seeker.


    The following day, Martha received a parcel by owl. There was a copy of the Daily Prophet – she had made page three.

    Oh, la, la! Our Martha’s a star! said the caption underneath a photograph of her baring all to the French crowd. Something else fell out of the parcel. She grinned ruefully as she picked up a red bra.

    Martha, darling, said the accompanying note.

    This is for you. It’s Gryffindor red. I was hoping you’d model it next time we meet.

    Yours, sporadically,


    Banner by the fabulous Julia - theoplaeye

  2. #132
    Name: Merlynne
    House: Slytherin
    Original Character: Ileana Chertoff, from an upcoming WIP
    Title: The Conformist
    Ratings and Warnings: 3rd-5th years. Sexual Content
    Word Count: 681

    Ileana Chertoff prided herself in her normalcy. She was dressed just like everyone else there in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in plain robes with the white collar underneath, buttoned up to the top button. It was slightly claustrophobic, but it felt good because Ileana knew that everyone else felt slightly claustrophobic, too. Around her neck hung her employee card, just like everyone else wore. Her shoes she’d bought at the same place the rest of them bought their shoes—except for the woman in the Auror’s office. Her leather sandals broke the mould. Ileana smiled to herself upon noticing this. Despite this being her first day of work, she already fit in more than that woman there did.

    On the outside, at least.

    “This is your office,” the man leading Ileana said. Mr. Shymko. He wore black robes, a black moustache and had his hair slicked back. Very tidy. Very professional. Very normal. Ileana liked him.

    “If you need anything, decorations, a plant, let us know and we’ll make arrangements,” Shymko continued. “For now we’ve got a few documents we need translated and next month there’s the Michalka trial. You’ll get the documents for that tomorrow to translate, and we’ll of course need you at the trial since the spell Michalka cast on himself has left him speaking nothing but Latin. The lengths some criminals will go to escape giving a coherent confession.”

    “Hmm,” was Ileana’s response. She knew nothing about the Michalka trial. Durmstrang had not prepared her for everything, but it had prepared her enough to learn the rest, she hoped.

    Shymko smiled and patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Ms. Chertoff,” he assured her. “There’ll be plenty of time to get acquainted with everything. Today, just learn the essentials. My office is just down the hall if you need help. Good luck.”

    Ileana settled into the desk, revelling in the undecorated walls and empty drawers, possessing only a slight desire to personalize the space. The first few documents were simple, translating Ukrainian into Russian.

    Halfway through her stack of documents, Ileana came across something written in a language she didn’t know. It looked like Greek. Perhaps it was Greek. Or maybe Spanish. Ileana found four more pages like that, and gathered them up to take to Shymko. He would know what to do.

    She knocked lightly on his door, but there was no response. Ileana opened the door a sliver to see if Shymko was in.

    The first thing she noticed was the leather-sandaled foot dangling from the edge of Shymko’s desk, upending a stack of carefully catalogued files. The woman’s red robes lay in a pile in the corner, and under her white blouse Shymko slid one hand. The woman’s red-nailed fingers traced up his arm, pushing up the sleeve past his elbow, baring the forearm where Ileana saw a skull with the tongue of a snake. The Dark Mark.

    They didn’t notice Ileana, too engrossed in each other.

    Ileana slipped away, not closing the door again for fear of a noise. She wasn’t sure what disturbed her more—the blatant disregard for work, the sexuality in such a non-sexual place, or the Dark Mark.

    She knew there were Death Eaters in government…but not Shymko. Not someone so normal, so clean.

    “Ms. Chertoff!” a voice called.

    Shymko had caught her. Racing out of the office, the normal man was brushing off his robes, and fastening the top button of his collar again, though the façade was broken. “Ms. Chertoff, stop this minute!”

    Ileana froze. “I just wanted to show you these,” she stammered, handing the papers to Shymko.

    “Ms. Chertoff, I have a wife,” was all Shymko said. “You saw nothing, understood? A word and…and…you’re fired.”

    Ileana’s heart raced. “Sir, I’d like to quit.” The words tasted awful in her mouth. She was no quitter, but there was no alternative; these halls were rotten.

    Shymko nodded brusquely. “Collect your things and leave.”

    Ileana had no things. Stuffing her hands in her pockets, she marched up the hall to where the lifts were and escaped.
    Inspired by Alberto Moravia's The Conformist.

  3. #133
    Seventh Year Gryffindor
    First Brush With A Dementor

    Join Date
    Mar 2009
    This seems so unspectacular after what everyone else came up with... Well, I didn't want to be too hard on Prudence, it's her first day after all.

    Name: Kara
    House: Gryffindor
    Original Character: Prudence Huntley
    Title: Feel Lost?
    Ratings and Warnings: 1st-2nd yrs, none
    Word Count: 700 (yes!! )

    “Now, Miss Huntley,” Phillip Parsley, Prudence’s supervisor, continued, “it’s only your first day here at the Ministry, but your cousin sounded quite confident about your abilities, so I suppose you will be alright dealing with this on your own. Just head to Mister Folper, and he’ll give you a hand.” Looking at his watch, he continued, “And when you’re done with that, you can take your lunch break if you want to.”

    Prudence nodded and smiled at him. As soon as the man had turned and walked away, however, she started cursing under her breath and running her hands through her hair in panic. What was she supposed to do? She had been so anxious not to mess anything up on her first day of work that she had still been taking some notes on various procedures when Parsley had explained to her what she was supposed to do. If at least she knew who Folper was...

    As much as Prudence hated admitting that she was lost, her only option seemed to be asking someone for help. She looked at all the wizards and witches around her, busily hurrying up and down the corridor. Several times she tried to talk to someone, but no one seemed to hear her. Finally, a witch stopped to read a notice board on the opposite wall. Prudence decided to take the chance and approached her.

    “Excuse me,” she said, “do you happen to know a Mr. Folper? It’s just that I’m supposed to see him, and I don’t know where his office is”

    “Folper? Experimental Charms Department. Just take the elevator down, and when you get out, turn right, and walk down the corridor, it’s the fifth door to the left.”

    Prudence thanked the woman and hurried off. Once she was in the Experimental Charms corridors, she felt quite confident again. She knocked at Mr. Flopers door and, not waiting for a reply, entered the room. What she saw there caused Prudence so much shock that she emitted a high pitched scream, but was frozen to the spot and unable to move. At the desk in front of her sat a man, but with the head and feet of a goat.

    She felt quite unable to do anything, when suddenly there were footsteps on the corridor and people hurried in the office to see where the scream had come from. Soon, the office was packed with people, and a lot of confusion had risen.

    “I... I wanted to see Mr Folper,” Prudence finally stammered.

    “Mr. Folper?” A wizard not much older than Prudence herself answered. “But there must have been a mistake... This here is Mr. Floper’s office, Head of the Department for Experimental Charms.”

    Prudence turned scarlet. Her first day at work, and she had screamed like a Banshee at the sight of a Head of Department. So far, he hadn’t said anything - probably because he still felt too insulted to speak. No doubt, Floper was going to talk to Prudence’s supervisor, and then she would be fired! And serve me right, Prudence thought bitterly. I’m supposed to be working at the Department for International Magical Cooperation, but I’m behaving like a bull in a china shop as soon as I see something that's odd!

    “Mr. Folper is on the second floor,” the wizard continued, “he’s a mentor for those who just started work. Your supervisor usually takes you there on your first day, because it’s really hard to find. I can show you the way, if you’d like.”

    He smiled at Prudence, and she accepted the offer, glad to at least get away from Floper and all those people staring at her.

    “He must have been really mad,” Prudence finally voiced her concerns.

    “Who, Floper? No, he’s actually very nice, don’t worry about that,” the wizard replied.

    “But he didn’t say a word all the time!”

    “How do you think he’s supposed to talk with a goat’s head? Now don’t worry, things like that happen all the time. I started in Experimental Charms not too long ago, and during my second week, I gave half the department tails.”

    Prudence realised that she had probably overreacted, but her cheeks still felt very hot.
    This completely gorgeous banner, which makes me happier than a squirrel, was made by Hokey

  4. #134
    Sixth Year Hufflepuff
    Voldemort's on the Back of Your Head, Professor
    Ginny Weasley Potter's Avatar
    Join Date
    May 2006
    Whew! Here is my entry... big exam tomorrow and I can be such a freak!

    Name: Ginny Weasley Potter/Pooja
    House: Hufflepuff
    Original Character: Chris Stevens
    Title: The Pervert
    Ratings and Warnings: 1st-2nd years, none
    Word Count: 694

    Entirely hypothetical situation...

    Chris walked into the ward where he was expected, clutching his wand importantly. He was a Trainee Healer at St. Mungo’s, and this was his first day at work. Right now, he would learn, more than anything else, but he’d draw a salary too. He was really proud of himself.

    Healer Tudor was in the ward, bending over a patient. She turned around as he entered, but didn’t return the smile that he gave her. Instead, she pointed at the patient: a bloody mess of a man lying unconscious. “Run down by a car,” she explained. “Not too badly injured; we can get him back to his feet in no time. Mend his bones— I’ll look after the cuts.”


    An hour later, Chris was still mending bones. He could feel his bladder fill up, and hoped that this spot of Healing would end soon. Tudor had stemmed the bleeding, dabbed antiseptic on the cuts, and was working on getting them closed. Chris was stuck with the man’s ribs, which proved to be tricky to mend. It was a comminuted fracture and a small splinter of the ribs had bent inwards and was threatening to injure the patient’s lung. Chris aimed his wand, feeling the rib as he moved a gloved hand over the patient’s chest. He finally muttered an incantation, but he knew that it had gone wrong, in a mere second. The man gave a gasp and began to make gurgling noises. Tudor looked up from a nasty cut. “What have you done?!” she asked, rushing over and placing a hand on the man’s chest. “You’ve ruptured his lung!”

    Chris panicked, now. What would happen? Would this man die? Would he, Chris, be responsible for it?

    Tudor seemed to read his thoughts. “No, he won’t die, but this going to take a lot of time to put right. You’d better be prepared for that.”

    Chris groaned. His bladder was just becoming fuller.


    Three hours later, Chris was dashing towards a loo in a sweat. He would really have embarrassed himself if he would have waited another second. Finally, the toilet came into view, and Chris rushed into it. Kicking open one of the cubicles, he flew in, locking himself in and finally relieving his bladder. He then flushed and walked out to the basins to wash his hands. That was when disaster struck.

    Chris was just drying his hands with his wand, when he heard someone enter the bathroom. He didn’t really pay attention and continued with his work… until a high pitched female voice emitted a scream. “PERVERT! PERVERT!”

    “What the—?” Chris whorled around to see a woman; probably a patient’s relative, pointing her wand at him and screaming.


    “But this isn’t—” Chris didn’t complete his sentence, for realisation struck him. There were no urinals in the bathroom. That clearly meant…

    Chris didn’t wait to apologise or say anything more. He just made a mad rush out of the loo, before the woman could realise anything more. He then stopped at the door for a second. The corridor was empty. So if he would walk normally, no one would realise what he had done. Colour rose up his cheeks, at the very thought that he had used the wrong bathroom. But what could he do now?

    Chris walked steadily to Healer Tudor’s office, still blushing furiously. He entered her office to find that she had gone somewhere else. Taking a seat, he waited for her. She came after five minutes and sat down on her seat. “There was a woman screaming something about a pervert in the ladies’ bathroom… descriptions suited you. Well?” She gave him a long, calculating look.

    Chris couldn’t bear to look at her or answer her question. Groaning, he buried his face in his hands. “It was a mistake…”

    Presence of mind, Stevens, that’s what you need. How can you be a Healer if you commit such mistakes?”

    Chris groaned more, in embarrassment. Great. This was exactly what he had asked for on the first day of work— being called a pervert of all things.
    ~ Pooja

    AMAZING story banner by Nadia/majestic_ginny! Dimply Sammeh by me.
    I found a liquor store. I drank it.

  5. #135
    Sixth Year Hufflepuff
    Rescued by Gred and, Fred and George
    Sainyn Swiftfoot's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2008
    watch out for the cutlery
    Name: Sainyn Swiftfoot
    House: HUFFLEPUFF!
    Original Character: Emma Knightely
    I made that name up exactly a second ago... >.<
    Title: Achieving Dreams
    Ratings and Warnings: 3rd-5th Years, Sexual Situations (minor-ish)
    Word Count: 579

    The candle-lights flashed around me in different colours, and music pulsated like a steady heartbeat. I looked at the waiting, expectant crowds. Despite the fact that this was the first time that I was doing this, the first day on my job, I was filled with energy and enthusiasm, I stood straight, and blew a kiss to them. Their cheers nearly deafened me.

    I looked at the pole next to me, and I held on to it with one hand, and slid a leg up it. People cheered again, however it was much more subdued this time. “Too much clothes!” jeered a man. I smiled sensuously at him, and stood in front of the crowd.

    Holding my hands high above me, I gyrated. I slowly floated into the air, and I looked behind for a second-- Mark, the technician, was holding a wand in his hand and looking carefully at me. When I was as high as I was supposed to go, I twirled in the air, and threw off my cloak, revealing... let's just settle with saying not too much of clothes, and way too much of my skin. But I enjoyed doing this, I enjoyed holding people's attention completely.

    I landed on the ground slowly, and headed for the pole. The next half-hour went by in a blur, with people cheering and jeering and laughing and gasping as I slid up and down and around the pole. Suddenly, the music slowed down, and I got off. I walked down the steps languorously at the crowds, who were now sitting at tables and drinking Firewhiskey.

    I walked towards a table where two men sat, and people wolf-whistled. In a sudden motion, I placed my leg on the table, and bent down towards the men. No, it wasn't him, or him. Stepping on the table, I did a little dance, and then jumped off, and strode towards the next table, as sultrily as I could.

    Ah, there he was! The tattoo was unmistakeable-- the dragon on his neck... I sat down on his lap, and he placed his hands around my waist. Around us, people whistled and cheered. I ran a finger down his neck, right till his waist, and sat to face him. I reached behind me and as slowly and carefully as I could, I pulled out my wand. Bending towards him, as if to kiss him, I muttered “Stupefy.” he slumped, but no one noticed. I motioned with my wand, and all of a sudden, a large lamp fell from the ceiling.

    People screamed as the flames licked the carpet and the tables slowly, and then hungrily started to devour everything it could find. In the ensuing confusion, I held on to the man's hand, and disapparated.

    “I've captured Moonstar-- the drug dealer and assassin you've been trying to find for three years,” I told the woman across the desk, throwing the man on the table. The woman smiled.

    “Welcome to the Wizarding Bureau of Investigation, new Agent 007,” she said.

    Another voice piped up, from somewhere. “Get up! You haven't been hired to sleep! Get up, you lazy bum! Argh, you're fired!”

    “Wha... what?” I sat up immediately, and rubbed my eyes. Where was I? Oh, Lord, it had all been a dream! I was at Proudfoot's Place for Food and Tea, on my first day at work, and I had nodded off to sleep! What a disastrous beginning...

    banner by my mystery banner maker! :O

    Profile on the Archives

  6. #136
    I know it's late, but seeing as it wasn't offically closed, I thought I'd try and submit it. If it's too late I'm really sorry and I'll delete it from this thread.
    Name: TheCursedQuill
    House: Gryffindor
    Original Character: Jason Smith
    That last name will probably change in the future.
    Title: Unaware
    Ratings and Warnings: 1st-2nd years
    Word Count: 698
    Note: This is going to end up being a chaptered fic. It was very hard to bring it down to 700! *Sorry for the lateness!*

    I walked up to the front doors of the little Italian restaurant. I took a deep breath. This was my first job and I had to get it right. My life depended on it. I was pretty sure that I couldn’t go another day without eating, and Ethan, my brother, couldn’t stand sleeping out in the cold anymore. I needed this job so that we could rent out a little apartment and buy ourselves some food. I needed this more than I needed anything else in the world.

    With my heart pounding against my chest, I opened up the door. The smell of tomato sauce hit my nose and my mouth watered at the wonderful fragrance. I closed my eyes, only for a second, to remember what pasta tasted like. My mother use to make it before she passed away. I remember the pots on the stove, the spoons protruding out. I distinctly remember the spoons stirring themselves but Ethan says that’s impossible.

    “You’re Jason right?” a dark-haired girl asked me. I snapped out of my daydream and focused on where I was.

    “Uh, yea. It’s my first day here,” I mumbled. She smiled knowingly.

    “Peter is in the back, he’ll tell you what to do,” she said. I thanked her and walked in the direction of Peter’s office. It was a small office, crowded with a large pine wood desk and metal filing cabinet. I stepped into the office to find Peter writing on a high stack of paper. I shut the door behind me with just enough force to get his attention.

    “Jason, hi!” He walked around his table to greet me with a wide smile. “How are you?” he asked.

    “I’m OK, you?” I replied.

    “Not too bad, now that you’re here. My other waiter called in sick.” He opened up the door and motioned me out into the dining room. “You won’t be serving any food today, luckily we have Angela here for that,” he said and pointed over to the girl who I saw earlier. He explained what I had to do and I tried hard to listen to everything he said. It was a little hard due to an annoying cat meowing its head off outside.

    “You got all of that? It’s pretty easy, really,” He said with a smile. I simply nodded my head, not wanting to speak and forget everything. It was an easy job, just clean-up the tables, but I knew that I’d mess it up somehow. He pointed me to my first table. I stiffened up, making sure I had control over my whole body. I concentrated hard on placing the plates on my arm so that they wouldn’t fall. A party of customers stood behind me, waiting to sit down at the table. I tried to move faster but still maintain the balance of the plates, which required more concentration. I thought about only my arm and the plates. Then I thought about where I needed to bring them. That’s when it happened.

    The plates flew out of my hand and hit the kitchen doors. I stared at the place they hit in horror. Why now? I thought to myself. Why today? I knew that odd things usually happened around me, but I had tried so hard for something not to happen right now that I felt like punching something. A little girl from the party behind me screamed and I whipped my head around to see if she was okay. Everybody was looking at me in terror and I hated myself for loosing control. My fists curled in a ball to help me stop from lashing out. I was a freak! Why did these things happen to me?

    Peter burst out of his office and looked right at me with confusion in his eyes. I couldn’t explain myself to him. I didn’t even want to look at him and have him see me as the freak that I was. So I ran. I ran out the door and down the street. I ran for at least five minutes before looking behind me. When I did look all that I saw was a tabby cat following me.

  7. #137
    Name: Maggie/ herm_own_ninny13
    House: Gryffindor
    Original Character: Abbie Nolan
    Title: Training Day
    Ratings and Warnings: 3rd-5th years, mild sexual innuendo
    Word Count: 652

    Frank wasn’t bad to look at, not at all. It was unfortunate that he was going to be Abbie Nolan’s mentor for the next three years. Especially if she couldn’t stop stammering whenever she was around him. Very, very unfortunate.

    The rest of the Auror candidates stumbled through the double doors, most looking quite unhappy about the time of the meeting. At least three were drinking steaming cups of tea to help wake them up. The Aurors in charge lined up at the front of the room and waited for the candidates to sit down. Abbie noted with distaste that the final candidate through the doors was Astrid LeNoir. She was even more dismayed when Astrid sat down next to her.

    “I’m so excited for this,” the petite blonde gushed as she slurped her tea from Madam Teapot’s. “You won’t believe who I got as my mentor.”

    Abbie rolled her eyes at her former housemate, the only other Slytherin who had applied this year. “Gideon Prewett,” she stated, pointing at the list hovering in shining letters near the front of the room.

    Astrid giggled and put her teacup on the ground by her feet as the meeting was called to order.

    Once Alastor Moody had finished reciting the fine print of Auror training (“Not all of you will survive. If you survive, you can forget about remaining sane for the rest of your life.”), he sent them out with their mentors. Frank waved at her, and she followed him into the hallway and towards the elevators.

    “I thought we’d start with a quick walk around the Ministry, to help you loosen up.”

    “That sounds good,” Abbie agreed, adding silently, I’d love for you to help me loosen up.

    “I’m assuming you know the different floors and everything?” She nodded quickly as her face slowly began to heat up. “Then we’ll get out here and walk around. I’ll introduce you to some people.”

    “Alright.” You can introduce me to you if you want. She giggled under her breath.

    Frank led her over to a tall woman in a purple jumper. “This is Marlene McKinnon. She was a Gryffindor with me at Hogwarts. Marlene, this is my Auror mentee, Abbie Nolan.”

    The name rang a bell. Abbie reached forward to shake her hand. “I sort of remember you. My sister was a Gryffindor.”

    Marlene’s eyes clouded a bit. “Tiny Maisie, right? Friends with the Marauders? Wonderful girl. Terrible what happened to her. I remember you as well, always sneaking in after dark hoping none of the Prefects would turn you in.”

    A blush colored Abbie’s face as she remembered all those nights she thought no one saw her in the Gryffindor common room. “I never did manage to sneak very well.”

    A raucous laugh filled the hallway behind her as a tall redhead loped over and leaned against Marlene’s cubicle. “You’ll have to get over that for Auror training. Sneaking’s a very important skill. I suggest you practice sneaking around Frankie’s back. Or in front of it.”

    “Shut it, Fabian,” Frank said jokingly as the three guffawed. Or I could sneak around with him, thought Abbie.

    The laughter died. “What did you say?” asked Marlene as Fabian’s eyes widened and Frank turned red.

    Abbie’s jaw dropped. “Did- did I say that out loud?”

    Fabian chuckled again at Abbie’s and Frank’s blushes and Marlene shook her head. “Just so you know, Frank’s engaged.”

    Abbie turned around so they wouldn’t see her eyes well up.

    “It’s all right, Abbie. Let’s keep walking.” Frank took her arm and they began to walk away, when another shout filled the hallway.

    “That’s against training rules, Nolan!” Fabian’s signature laugh rang out once more. “Something my brother would do good to remember, hah.”

    As Frank and Abbie turned the corner, she took a few breaths, knowing she would be much more careful with her thoughts for the next three years.

  8. #138
    Name: LiLu
    House: Hufflepuff
    Character: Annie Stewart (who has undergone not one, but two name changes since her last appearance)
    Title: Constant Vigilance
    Ratings/Warnings: 1st-2nd Years, none
    Word Count: 531

    Constant Vigilance

    Annie Stewart’s Monday morning was not off to a good start. She tossed her empty paper coffee cup into a trash bin as she raced past. She skidded around the corner at top speed and slammed into her desk in the Auror Trainee Center approximately three seconds before a rugged-looking Auror, approached from the other direction.

    “Stewart,” he said gruffly, giving her a stern look. “Glad to see you’ve made it to your desk on time, if only just.”

    “Yes, sir, sorry, sir,” said Annie sheepishly. “Are you Auror Moody?”

    “That I am,” said Moody. “And to start your first day, I’ll be giving you a practical diagnostic. I’ll meet you in the dueling chamber in five minutes.”

    Once he had left, Annie took a few moments to compose herself before standing up again, stowing her wand in her back pocket and heading for the direction she was pretty sure was the dueling chamber.

    Turning a corner, Annie nearly bumped into a tall, dark woman who stopped and gave her a look of distaste.

    “Morning, Stewart,” said the older woman coolly. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

    “Morning, Tonks,” Annie replied, nodding stiffly. “I just started.” Annie had heard that, although Andromeda Tonks had been a Slytherin at Hogwarts, she, unlike many of her housemates, was against Voldemort and worked in the Ministry to recruit purebloods for the Light. However, this did not make the shrewd, detached woman one of Annie’s best friends, and the feeling was mutual.

    “Off for a practical, then?” Tonks inquired. “Good. You could use the practice.”

    The jibe was so subtle that it took a moment to sink in. Annie reigned in her temper with difficulty and, although she had no intention of using it, fingered her wand in her back pocket. “I need all the practice I can get if I’m going to fight against You-Know-Who in the front lines, instead of sitting behind a desk making connections.”

    Annie’s not-so-subtle remark made Tonks narrow her eyes. “Not all of us are so foolhardy as to risk our necks unnecessarily.”

    Annie opened her mouth to reply, but yelped instead as she felt a sudden burning sensation. “What the--?” Annie twisted around and caught a flash of orange. “Fire! I’m on fire!”

    Moody rushed onto the scene. “What in Merlin’s name, Stewart—”

    Aguamenti!” said Tonks quickly, extinguishing Annie with a spurt of water from her wand.

    Singed and soaking, Annie winced at the lingering pain in her posterior. Moody was staring unashamedly at the burn hole her wand had made in her robes. His jaw was set, and he was nearly trembling with rage, it seemed.

    “I have some salve for that if you want it,” said Tonks evenly.

    Annie turned to face her. “I can handle it, thanks,” she said, forcing a smile.

    “I’m sure you can,” Tonks replied sardonically, taking her leave.

    Annie turned back to Moody, who was nearly doubled over with tremors of what Annie realised were not fury, but laughter.

    “Stewart,” he said, slowly regaining control. “First rule of Auror training: never keep your wand in your back pocket.”

    Annie composed herself and nodded. “I’ll remember that, sir.”
    It's still the 11th by my time, but if I'm too late, no biggie.

  9. #139
    Honigkuchenpferd Hufflepuff
    Dobby's Sock Addiction Begins
    luinrina's Avatar
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    Jun 2008
    currently in the Botosphere

    Character Gymnasium: Accidents Happen

    After another very longer break (I apologise profoundly), we’re back for another Character Gymnasium. This round’s theme is

    accidents happen

    Your Original Character is on board a Muggle train/car/whatever and the transport device is involved in an accident. A person who sat next to your OC (your choice who, magical or not) is dying, your OC only slightly injured. What is your OC going to do?

    All MNFF standards apply. All entries must be in drabble forms and be 700 words or less. When rating your drabble, please keep it to 3rd-5th years and below.

    When submitting, please fill out this form:

    PHP Code:
    b]Original Character:[/b]
    b]Ratings and Warnings:[/b]
    b]Word Count:[/b
    The winner will get 10 points, the runner-up 5.

    To participate, you don’t have to have a thread for your OC in this forum. Also, you’re not bound to take an OC you used in an earlier Character Gymnasium. Furthermore, you may use a beta (I beg you to use a beta).

    Please post your entries here by 1st July.

    This thread is for submissions only. Please PM any questions to me.

    Happy writing,
    No longer a mod and no longer in charge of any forums.

    author ~*~ BA banner ~*~ giggler
    Banners by Tiffany and Samarie ^

  10. #140

    The Car Accident

    Name: MorganRay
    House: Hufflepuff
    Original Character: Emery Nissel
    Title: The Car Accident
    Ratings and Warnings: Sexual Suggestions, mild profanity
    Word Count: 700

    The rain assaulting the earth filled his ears, and the rhythmic drumming tried to rock him back to sleep, but the pulling in his gut told him to wake up. Emery opened his eyes and stared down the road that looked like an endless horizon. From his perspective, the rain flew upwards from the dark concrete into the even blacker night.

    ‘Why . . . why am I on the ground?’

    Emery turned his head and stared up at the sky, but turned away as the water pelted his face. When he moved, he noticed his neck hurt.

    ‘That’s odd . . . ’

    When he turned his head to the other side, he saw the bright, Robin’s Egg Blue car on its side. Then he knew what happened.

    It started in a bar, where he was transfixed on the beautiful brunette he had been buying drinks for all night. ‘Ever rode in a car?’

    Emery flashed her his most dazzling, white smile. ‘I don’t believe I have.’

    ‘We should go,’ she suggested. ‘My dad taught me to drive on the farm before I came to Hogwarts.’

    Emery nodded and followed Alicia out of the bar. He was ready to follow her anywhere tonight, and all he could think about was how he heard Muggles often ‘got lucky’ in cars. Emery ran a hand through his thick, curly hair and hoped the rumours were true.

    He laughed when she pointed to the bright blue jeep parked along the curb. ‘It’s a . . . great piece of Muggle art.’

    Alicia stuffed the little, brass key into the slot. Emery grinned as he watched her walk through the rain. He couldn’t take his eyes off her athletic body, which looked so good in those jeans. He thought he’d never seen anyone wear a white T-shirt better than Alicia.

    They both climbed into the car, and Alicia ran a hand through her wet hair. ‘You could have gotten a little bit more wet,’ Emery joked as he looked at the obvious place on her T-shirt.

    Alicia laughed as she put the key into the ignition. Emery grinned as he looked out the window at the lights streaming past. As they made their way out of the town, the nighttime abyss enveloped them. Alicia brought the car to a stop and leaned over to kiss Emery. He gladly put his hands on her neck and returned the favour.

    ‘Hey,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘You drive, and I’ll show you a little something Muggle girls do when their guys are driving.’

    A goofy grin spread over Emery’s face. He had no idea what she meant, but the tone of her voice let him know it would be something he would definitely like. Emery turned the little key, like Alicia had done, and when she told him to press the gas, he did.
    It happened fast. One moment, Alicia had her hand on him, and the next, he saw another pair of lights before he could turn.

    And now, he lay on the pavement, trying to scramble to his feet like he had too many limbs. “A-Alicia!” Emery called as he staggered through the rain. He saw another person standing by a green car, and they shouted at him, but he didn’t care what they were saying.


    He fumbled in the pocket of his green Healer’s robe for his wand. ‘Where is it?’ Emery thought as his gaze darted over the broken glass and the two over turned vehicles. He made his way to the bright blue Jeep and thrust his head inside. Her white T-shirt was stained with blood, and as Emery stood there, all his training dropped out of his head and landed somewhere among the shattered glass on the road.

    Sirens cut through the sound of the falling rain. The other person continued to shout at him. He reached into shake Alicia, but she didn’t move. Her head flopped to one side, and instead of using a charm to wake her up, Emery just kept shaking her.

    The rain continued to pound down as the paramedics got out of the ambulance. The woman in the green car told them that a drunken man in his mid-twenties had been driving. There was someone else in the blue Jeep, though, and it seemed like she might not make it.
    I never put her last name in the fic, but Alicia is Alicia Spinnet from the books. Thought I'd clear that up.

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