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Thread: Weekly Drabble Challenge 5 - Halloween! Results, Finally!

  1. #11
    the*evenstar
    Guest
    Name: the*evenstar
    House: Ravenclaw
    Title: A Table for Two
    Challenge: #1
    Warnings: None
    Words: 499

    The faded yellow edges of a long forgotten bit of parchment protruded a little through a gap in the old, wooden floors. Young fingers slid over the note, pulling it from its near twenty-year hiding place in number twelve, Grimmauld Place. “Fred, come look at this!” George whispered.

    “What?” Fred asked, happy to take a break from all the cleaning.

    “It’s an old letter, from Harry’s dad to Sirius!” George thrust the letter in Fred’s face, inviting him to take a look.

    “Blimey... d’ya think we should give it to Harry?”

    “Not so fast! This looks promising...”

    Fred and George drifted off into a reverent silence as they devoured the correspondence. After several soundless moments, the twins looked at each other in amazement. The silence ended when they exclaimed together, “Bloody brilliant!”

    “That’s ingenious,” Fred stated simply.

    “It’s perfect, is what it is!” George retorted. “And I thought we had mastered the Halloween prank!”

    “Yeah, but who would think that Snape ever had a girlfriend?” Fred laughed.

    “I know! And turning her into James... oh God, that’s too much! But this Polyjuice Potion variant – that’s serious business!”

    “No kidding... You know, I think we’re entitled to keep this... A fine piece of work, really.”

    “Something to keep in the files, anyway.” George smiled, winking at his brother as he folded the crinkling parchment into his pocket.

    ***

    “So this is where Snape lives, eh?” Fred whispered as they crept down a very dark Spinner’s End.

    “Only seems fitting,” George responded. “You have the Polyjuice Potion?”

    “Still in my pocket!” Fred answered. “Blimey, I just want to see what his girl looks like! You’re sure she’s going to be here?”

    “I told you, I heard him making the plans in the Hog’s Head–”

    “And you’re sure that you didn’t see her?”

    “Hah, I think I would remember! Like I said, she was wearing that huge cloak. But I know that she’ll be here, and so will ‘lover-boy’. A little Halloween tryst.”

    “Nice.”

    The twins craned to see through the back window, making certain that no one was inside, and opened the door with a simple Alohomora.

    In the cramped dining area, they noticed a small table for two, candles unlit but food already arranged. One side of the table had been strewn with roses – “Bet that’s her place!” George whispered.

    Taking the potion out of his pocket, Fred whispered, “One Essence of Harry, coming up!” He doused the food with a clear liquid that, according to James’ account, produced the same effects as Polyjuice Potion, save that it was virtually undetectable.

    “Can you imagine Snape’s face when he goes to kiss her?”

    The twins exploded in laughter, but their sniggering ended prematurely as the front door slowly creaked open. “This way, love,” they heard a resonant bass croon.

    Staring at each other in alarm, they dashed behind the sofa – there was no time for escape.

    “At least we have front row seats for the table for two!” George whispered.

  2. #12
    Winged Artemis
    Guest

    Challnge Drabble...

    My first attempt at a drabble!

    Name: Winged Artemis.
    House: Ravenclaw.
    Title: Gifts.
    Challenge #: Challenge Number Two.
    Warnings: None.
    Words: 494

    Long, twisting trees reached gallantly to the sky and the thick, lush umbrage caressed every movement made between its leaves and every sound that was made echoed between the trees' branches. Pale moonlight was visible through the archway made by the large covey of leafage.

    Not a sound could be heard through the sententious verdure. No crickets chirped. No birds sang. No gentle breeze nipped playfully through the vast thicket of trees. Only a pair of thunderous footsteps could be heard through the ringing silence.

    A massive man with a long, coarse beard and a vest that looked ancient was holding out his pudgy hand. In his tight clasp was a pink umbrella with a worn-out look along the edge, yet the giant man didn't look as if he was holding it so tight it was about to shatter under his grasp.

    The man's beard was full of a rich, slimy residue and brambles were caught between each dense mass of hair. His grey eyes which seemed to usually look warm had an intensifying look in them. His nose was very accentuated upon his dirty skin and his lips were an unusual shade of brown.

    He came to a clearing where piles of logs crowned with fluorescent white spider webs resided. They were covered in a thick green past-looking substance and the scent of mold and decay was thick.

    Hundreds of spiders crawled on the logs. Their sizes ranged from the tiniest babies to spiders the size of one-story houses. They all looked up, raising their pincers at the man with an obvious dislike.

    The man didn't look frightened. In fact, his face barely changed its concentrated look.

    "Oregeth," the giant man muttered gruffly. His eyes flashed with a sense of defense.

    "Hagrid."

    The voice was icy and cold, but the giant referred to as Hagrid barely had a shiver run down his spine.

    "I've come to talk - to talk to yeh abou' Aragog," Hagrid said. His voice was soft but it rang loud and clear amongst the wet sounds of spiders crawling around in the forest.

    "Aragog? My father?" A large black hairy spider with a liquid substance left in his pincers draped out of the shadows.

    "Yeh, Aragog. When 'e left, 'e told me to give this to 'is son, Oregeth on 'Alloween. So I grabbed it fer yeh when I 'eard abou' yeh."

    From his jacket pocket he pulled out a small, squalid package in in paper packaging. With a click of Oregeth's pincers, Hagrid tore open the packaging for the large spider. Out fell a long, thin object that looked like string and a dried and crusty brown flower.

    Hagrid reached boldly up to the large spider.

    With a snap of his pincers, Oregeth hid back behind the shadows.

    Turning around to leave, the giant man could have sworn he heard three words whispered that he had never thought he'd hear.

    "Thank you, Hagrid."

  3. #13
    crazy_purple_hp_freak
    Guest
    Name: crazy_purple_hp_freak
    House: Slytherin
    Title: Halloween Feasts (eep I really couldn't think of a title...)
    Challenge #: #2
    Warnings: None.
    Words: 500 *hides*

    Hagrid stomped along the path with Fang beside him, humming softly, a dead sheep slung over his shoulder. He knew the spiders could get their own food, but this was a rare breed…they’d enjoy it.

    It was eerie and silent in the forest but Hagrid wasn’t afraid; he’d been down this path many times before and knew that nothing would hurt him here.

    “Mosag?” he whispered, gently at first, then louder.

    “Everyone? Com’ out!” He gazed around the circle he was standing in, grinning. “I’ve brough’ yeh all a Halloween present!”

    Amidst the rustling of the trees, he discerned a faint glowing as the milky eyes of giant eight legged creatures began to appear in the gloom.

    “C’mon. Quickly, all of yeh. Can’t stay long, I gotta go to the feast.”

    The first spider came out, clicking its pincers in excitement. Hagrid set down the sheep and began taking other rarities out of his pack.

    More of them came out. Fang snarled, as if remembering some previous unfriendly incident. He backed towards Hagrid, who simply snorted.

    “Really! Fang, yeh coward! There’s nothin’ to be afraid of. Yeh remember Aragog? These’re his family, they wouldn’ hurt us!”

    The first spider reached them.

    Click-click.

    “Oh I wouldn’t be too sure of that, Hagrid.”

    Hagrid blinked, and stepped back.

    “Eh?”

    The spider towered over him, its hard pincers lifted him easily off the ground. He could feel its warm, stinking breath on his face, and saw malice in its eyes.

    “Yeah, eh. Nice joke, Mosag. But can yeh please put me down now?”

    Click-click. The spider’s grip tightened.

    “Joke? I do not joke. As kin of Aragog we respected his wishes not to harm you …but now, we cannot deny ourselves fresh meat when it wanders so willingly into our midst.”

    Hagrid tried to free himself, but failed; the spider’s grip was strong.

    “Yeh–yeh not sayin’ that…” He trailed off; he knew that this was exactly what they were saying. They wanted him for their Halloween feast.

    Behind him, Fang, also struggling with a captor, howled loudly and piercingly. As if in response, they heard a faint, low rumble.

    The spiders advanced and began to bind the two of them in preparation for their meal.

    Click-click.

    “You have always been most kind to Aragog, and now you will be kind to us…”

    “Why – yeh ungrateful – “

    Hagrid was interrupted by the loud blaring of a horn. A large machine charged through, knocking the spiders aside, catching Hagrid and Fang so that they landed on the roof of the turquoise Ford Anglia.

    The spiders scattered, retreating back into their lair, shielding their eyes from the bright light.

    The car trundled off, finally throwing them down at the edge of the woods. Fang gave a joyous bark of thanks as it disappeared again.

    Hagrid, however, was too shocked to respond. Picking himself up from the ground, he shook his head.

    “I - I though’ they were nice, yeh know – I thought they were friendly…”
    Here's another one!

    Name: crazy_purple_hp_freak
    House: Slytherin
    Title: An apology long overdue
    Challenge #: #3
    Warnings: None.
    Words: 468

    “Sir – Sir Nicholas?”

    He jumped up, startled. He hadn’t expected anybody to still be here…the party ended hours ago. The dungeon was still bedecked with ghostly grey drapes; rotting platters of food still stood on the table around a magnificent black cake, and a messy assortment of streamers were still strewn across the centre stage, serving as a reminder of the game of Headless polo that had once again managed to ruin the party.

    “Sir Nicholas…do – do you – do you remember me?”

    The voice was coming from the door. Nick looked up curiously, and saw the ghost of an elegant lady drift through the entrance. She was beautiful, with elegantly coifed hair and perfectly straight teeth. She looked oddly familiar… she must have died around the same time as I did, thought Nick, looking from the way she’s dressed.

    The lady approached cautiously. Her face gave away a peculiar mixture of regret as well as nervousness.

    “I didn’t want to interrupt the party, you looked like you were all having fun. I’ve waited years to talk to you, but haven’t had the courage until now.”

    She looked down at her hands, twisting them anxiously.

    “They fixed my teeth you know”, she said abruptly. “They fixed them well.”

    Nick was still bemused. “I’m sorry”, he said politely. “I’m still not quite sure who you are. Have we met bef– “

    He stopped, on seeing the lady’s smile. The smile was too familiar, although it had been hundreds of years since he had seen it last.

    “Lady – Lady Grieve?”

    She nodded. Nick didn’t know what to say. He was stunned.

    He couldn’t be angry with her, not after all these years…and yet she was the reason that he was here, trapped here, with half a sinew hanging off his neck.

    “I never quite knew why I ended up like this – a ghost, but I guess there was something I hadn’t done, something like this.” She looked sorry now, really sorry.

    “I heard about what happened. I didn’t mean to cause you all that pain.”

    Nick still couldn’t get his words out. But his wounds healed, just a bit.

    “I know you didn’t mean to do what you did…and it was easily reversed. I should have said something. You shouldn’t have died.”

    And the wound healed just a bit more.

    Over five hundred years had passed since that day, and Nick was used to it. This was his life now. These cheery hallways were all that he would ever know. He couldn’t bear grudges.

    “So I came by today, Sir Nicholas…”

    And the wound…

    “To say I’m sorry.”

    …healed.

    Nick smiled at Lady Grieve. He could forgive, just as she had. Now that the weight had lifted he could finally celebrate his death as something wholly enjoyable, wholly good.

    “Thank you.”

  4. #14
    Oppungo
    Guest
    Name: Oppungo
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: One Marble Too Many Down the Drain
    Challenge: 1 (Twins and/or Marauders prank)
    Warnings: None
    Words: 498
    Thanks to hogwartsduchess for betaing!

    "I can't believe it - this was nearly as bad as the great Halloween disaster of '73!" Minerva McGonagall threw her hands up in the air in disbelief. Albus Dumbledore smiled wryly as they walked along. He could see her point.

    The Weasley twins had evidently found the organised Halloween events, such as the feast and the ghost display, rather mundane, and had so decided to spice - or spook - things up for themselves.

    It seemed that they had transfigured the heads of the statues of armour into pumpkins. Then they had charmed the pumpkins to be able to talk - albeit, rather abusively - and demand for sweets, yelling 'trick or treat!' at random moments. If their victim did not comply, the pumpkin heads would spit out pumpkin seeds at them, which seemed to have a substance remarkably similar to saliva on them, causing the seeds to stick in people's hair.

    Not that the outcome was much better if you gave into the pumpkins' demands - poor Professor Flitwick had to jump up as he attempted to place some Fudge Flies in the pumpkins' open mouth - when the mouth clamped shut on his hand, leaving Professor Flitwick suspended in the air. It was nearly three quarters of an hour before they were able to get him down again.

    "Honestly - I don't know where they get these ideas from - they're as bad as the Marauders!" Minerva McGonagall shook her head in despair. "What are they doing now for punishment - more lines?"

    "No, I decided that lines were obviously having no effect, so I put them on something different," Professor Dumbledore admitted, indicating to a classroom up ahead as to the Weasley twins' whereabouts. Just after he spoke, the corridor echoed with their hoots of laughter, leaving Minerva with quite a worried expression on her face.

    "What on earth are they doing in there that's keeping them so amused?" Minerva asked curiously - the only time she had heard so much cackling come from a detention was when Peeves had sneaked into Trophy Rooms where some second years were cleaning and had thrown water bombs and chewing gum everywhere. And Minerva had never heard any cackling come from the people serving detention before.

    "I got them to sort out some filing," Dumbledore admitted with an evident twinkle in his eye. "The records of detention, I think it is. No one has organised it for several decades, I believe."

    "No - Albus, have you gone mad?" Minerva asked, her face turning extremely pale. "Do you know whose files are in there? Potter, Black, Lupin and Pettigrew! Have you forgotten who caused the great Halloween disaster of '73?"

    "I thought it might give them some standards," Dumbledore replied merrily, as they walked on, past the door which seemed to emitting several loud bouts of laughter. Minerva McGonagall stood still in shock, wondering, not for the first time, whether Dumbledore had finally lost several very important marbles.

  5. #15
    Third Year Gryffindor
    I'm a what?
    tc015's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2006
    Location
    Chaos
    Posts
    70
    Name: tc015
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: The Night of All Hallows Eve
    Challenge #: 1
    Warnings: None
    Words: 353

    It was a good day, the best of days. It was Halloween, their last Halloween at Hogwarts. Mooney smiled at the thought. This was the Marauder’s last chance to amaze the school with their annual Halloween prank. It seemed to become a school tradition; people had been guessing what they were going to be doing for weeks. There were rumors that teachers had a pool going on it.

    Prongs came up to him, Padfoot, and Wormtail this morning. He told us his plan. It was brilliant. Mooney quickly ran off to go “borrow” some potions ingredients, Wormtail went to sneak some food from the kitchens, Padfoot went to go locate the victim, and Prongs went on a classified mission.

    The friends met up at the end of the day in their dormitory, their findings in hand. Mooney had his potion brewing in the corner, Wormtail had several cupcakes, Padfoot had a map of the location of the victim, and Prongs had a black vial. The vial was poured into the potion, and the potion was put into the cupcakes. The cupcakes were brought to the classified location, and victim ate them.

    That night at the Halloween feast, the greatest prank Hogwarts had ever seen was played on the person with the greasiest hair ever. The students laughed, the teachers were enraged, and Snivellus looked absolutely crazy.

    Snivellus was on top of the staff. He was kneeling in front of a certain Headmistress, serenading her with roses and a song of love. The headmistress quickly stunned him, and sent him off to the Hospital Wing to be checked for insanity. The headmaster stood up and faced the Gryffindor table and applauded as he gave the Marauders a wink.


    “Amazing,” muttered Fred.

    “Magnificent,” whispered George.

    “Let’s do it,” said Fred.

    That night, the first years Fred and George Weasley laughed at sight of Marcus Flint serenading Professor McGonagall. As they watched the stunned form of Flint being taken out of the Hall on a stretcher, they raised their glasses.

    “To the Marauders,” said Fred.

    “To the Marauders,” said George as the two glasses clinked together.

  6. #16
    Fifth Year Gryffindor
    I See Dead People... In Mirrors

    Join Date
    Aug 2006
    Posts
    235
    Name: kehribar
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: For the Sake of a Pumpkin
    Challenge: #2
    Warnings: None
    Words: 499

    Dark rainclouds were swimming over the sky. Hagrid was having a Butterbeer in his hut before he took his giant pumpkin to the Great Hall for Halloween decorations. He was extremely proud of his pumpkin: he had been working on it for two months, protecting it from the rain and the wind, polishing it every day. His face broke into a huge smile as he thought of how his pumpkin would glow majestically in the middle of the Staff Table.

    A shadow passed by the window, disrupting his thoughts. Frowning, Hagrid stood up and walked to the window, trying to see through the rain. Who, in Merlin’s name, would visit him in this weather? After a few moments of silence, he decided that his eyes were playing games to him, and walked back to his chair, but he stopped in his tracks as a deep, strange growl reached his ears from through the pumpkin field. Now he had to check it out.

    Grabbing his coat and umbrella, he walked out into the rain and through the pumpkin field. As his eyes fell onto his pumpkin, his chest lifted up with pride once more: in between the others, this pumpkin looked exactly the way Hagrid looked while standing beside a first year.

    A muffled creeping sound brought him out of his reverie. Looking around, he saw traces in the mud, as if a reptile creature had just passed through there. Frowning, he followed the traces. When he reached the end, he looked up, and his eyes met a creature he had never seen before.

    Roughly, it looked like an apple worm – only, Hagrid’s size. Having its huge eyes fixed hungrily on the precious pumpkin, it didn’t see Hagrid’s arrival. Hagrid could almost see it licking its non-existent lips with delight.

    Suddenly, the gigantic worm lunged for the pumpkin.

    “Don’t ye dare!” shouted Hagrid, jumping forward.

    He shoved the creature fiercely with his umbrella. The worm drew back in surprise. It looked at Hagrid for a moment, as if trying to decide whether to take his warning seriously or not.

    “Don’t. Yeh. Dare,” Hagrid repeated slowly, looking directly in its eyes. There was no way he was going to let a worm spoil his pumpkin.

    All of a sudden, the creature leapt on to the pumpkin once more. But it never managed to get a bite; Hagrid’s umbrella was pointed at it in the blink of an eye, and the next moment, a dozen of all-size pumpkins were flying at it. Whining and screeching under the attack, the creature turned back and slithered away, disappearing in the Dark Forest.

    “That’s what yeh get for messin’ with me!” Hagrid shouted, shaking the umbrella above his head.

    His eyes turned on his undamaged pumpkin, a smile making its way up to his face. He had saved his pumpkin.

    “Oh, an’ happy Halloween to yeh, too!” he shouted after the creature, laughing quietly to himself, and he made his way back to his hut.
    And there's another one:

    Name: kehribar
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: A "Worm" Halloween
    Challenge: #2 (again)
    Warnings: Somewhat creepy if I managed well.
    Words: 460


    Dark clouds covered the sky like a thick cloak. A huge human figure was sitting on a rough wooden chair. The wind whistled hauntingly through the cracks in the walls and raindrops tattered against the windowpanes. The atmosphere couldn’t fit Halloween more.

    Hagrid was having a butterbeer before he took his giant pumpkin to the Great Hall for Halloween decorations. This pumpkin was his pride and joy; he protected it from the rain and the wind, and polished it every day. He couldn’t help but smile as he thought of how his pumpkin would glow majestically in the middle of the staff table.

    A shadow darkened the wall, and disrupted his thoughts. Frowning, Hagrid stood up and walked to the window. Who, in Merlin’s name, would visit him in this weather? After a few moments of silence, he decided that his eyes were playing games to him, and walked back to his chair. A deep, malicious growl reached his ears from through the pumpkin field.

    "Grrrr..."

    Throwing on his coat and grabbing his umbrella, he dashed outside into the storm. Hagrid rushed on, the rain settling in his beard as he searched quickly for the danger. Following slithering tracks to the end, he looked up from the ground, and his eyes met a creature like he had never seen before.

    For someone with a sufficiently wide imagination, the creature could resemble a gigantic apple worm. Its reddish skin was looked like sunburned flesh. Two blood-red eyes were angry slashes in the crinkled skin. A pair of long, sickeningly yellow fangs burst out of the mouth on either side of razor-like teeth. Hagrid involuntarily took a step back.

    Suddenly, the creature turned, and lunged for the pumpkin.

    “Don’t ye dare!” shouted Hagrid.

    He rushed forward and shoved the creature fiercely with his umbrella. The gigantic worm turned to him, growling maliciously, and lunged forward. Hagrid met the razor-like fangs with his umbrella.

    The creature crawled around the pumpkin, not wanting to leave a delicious meal – but Hagrid had no intention to let it do so. He hit its body forcefully, chasing it away. But the creature was stubborn – growling angrily, it suddenly attacked, thrusting its teeth into Hagrid’s arm.

    Acting purely on instinct, he pointed his umbrella to the creature’s face and shouted “Exuro!” A wave of flames burst through the creature’s crinkled skin. It crawled back in pain, screeching.

    “Take that!” Hagrid shouted in rage. The creature turned and slithered away, disappearing in the trees of the Dark Forest.

    “Happy Halloween to yeh, too!” he shouted after the creature.

    Hagrid’s eyes turned on his undamaged pumpkin. A smile made its way up to his face. His pumpkin was safe. Slowly, he turned back to his hut, holding his injured arm.
    The Run of the Mill

    The phenomenal banner is by MissBean

  7. #17
    Simply Being
    Guest
    Name: Simply Being
    House: RAVENCLAW!
    Title: Excuse me gentlemen...
    Challenge: #1
    Warnings: None
    Words: 369


    “Well Fred, it’s a sad, sad day when the Weasley brothers have failed to come up with the perfect Halloween prank,” George sighed deeply.

    “Agreed,” moaned Fred, and he stared dismally at his feet as the troublesome two ambled along the corridor. “We’ve already bewitched the chalk to write swear words on the chalkboards, haven’t we?”

    “That was last year,” George answered, nodding solemnly. “We’ve already spiked the pumpkin juice with Belch Powder,” he added.

    “That was first year. So young, so innocent, so unimaginative. Belch Powder, we could’ve done so much better, honestly.”

    The two continued along the corridor grimly, recalling past pranks. Suddenly, Fred grabbed his twin’s arm and spun him around to face the wall.

    “Do you see what I see George?” he breathed quietly, in awe of what stood before him.

    “I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight in all my life, Fred,” George replied, his eyes glinting roguishly.

    “After you,” said Fred, and he opened the door with a flourish. He grinned from ear to ear and held the polished cabinet door open, bowed deeply, and gestured for him to enter.

    “Why thank you Fred!” George said graciously as he stepped up into the cabinet. Fred soon followed, and before either of them could say ‘trick or treat’ they both were hurtling through time, caught in a whirlwind of colors that danced around them merrily. With a sudden jolt, both were thrown out of the cabinet, and landed in chaos.

    Children in Hogwarts robes were dashing about madly, flailing their arms around and screaming in terror. Several were standing still and moaning, and still others stomped about wildly, attempting to find the nearest exit. All were shaking their heads, as if to fling off the radiant orange pumpkins attached to their necks. Fred and George picked themselves up off the floor, and beamed at each other triumphantly. “I think this’ll do, George,” quipped Fred as he spotted four boys with their heads still attached, a handsome one with long dark hair, another with wildly messy hair and glasses, the next one shaking his head, clearly displeased, and the last, the shortest with small watery eyes and a mouse-like appearance.

    “Excuse me gentlemen…” Fred began.

  8. #18
    Air Elemental
    Guest
    Name: Air Elemental
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: A Centaur or Summat
    Challenge #: 2
    Warnings: None
    Words: 423

    Hagrid stood outside the Gamekeeper’s Hut and stared up in awe at the black mass of trees in front of him. It had been easy to sneak out of the Entrance Hall while the rest of the Gryffindors were piling into the Great Hall for the Halloween Feast. Hagrid didn’t want to spend another feast being gaped at by his fellow Gryffindors or that creepy Tom Riddle gazing coldly at him from across the Hall. Nah, he’d rather go an’ look about in the forest.

    Smiling to himself, he began to walk towards the forest wall. The frost on the grass crunched under his feet and his breath came out in a swarm of steam. It was a cold, October night and the only light came from the hut nearby. As Hagrid stepped into the forest, he began to wish he’d brought a touch.

    Where’s me wand, he thought to himself, instinctively reaching into his pocket. Not that there was much he could do with it if he got in trouble, being a first year an’ all.

    He walked for a few more yards before stopping. It was completely dark around him and the trees became twisted lumps of grey. The sound of leaves shuffling in the wind filled his ears and several birds were still up chattering. Something howled nearby and Hagrid shivered with terror and excitement.

    He began to wonder if he should go a bit further, when it arrived.

    A twig snapped; then another, then the bush beside him started to shake vigorously. Hagrid took at step back and tried to make out the thing sliding out from under the foliage. It glinted slightly and made a low grunting noise as it went across the path. Hagrid stared at it in awe. Was it furry? Did it have scales and spikes? He reached out to touch it…

    “Get away from that!” roared a voice. Hagrid yelped and leapt back, his eyes darting to find the speaker. “I said get away from that!”

    The voice had such a strong tone of authority that Hagrid found himself walking out of the forest and back outside the Gamekeeper’s Hut. Who was that? What was he up to? Maybe he should take a look… Nah, it was probably a centaur or summat. His stomach grumbled; time to return to the feast.

    Back in the forest, a pair of eyes glared as the giant boy trudged back to Hogwarts. Tom Riddle glared at him for a long time, before walking back into the forest depths.
    Maybe more to come...

  9. #19
    kumydabookworm
    Guest
    Name: kumydabookworm
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: Pumpkin Juice
    Topic: Challenge 1
    Word Count: 474
    Warnings: None

    Fred glances at the mirror, and sighs to himself. “George, the secret passageway is completely blocked. It looks like the map was wrong on this one.”

    George sighs and taps his wand over the map. “Mischief managed,” he mutters.

    Fred watches his twin frown at the parchment and wave his wand again. Sensing trouble, he walks over.

    “What’s wrong, George?” he asks.

    “It...won’t…erase,” George muttered, jabbing the map with his wand. Fred tries, with no success.

    “Ouch!” A sharp elbow to the ribs causes Fred to look up and he gasps.

    A dark-haired boy appears in the glassy mirror in front of them. “Your mischief isn’t managed quite yet. We – Moony, Prongs, Wormtail and I – were the ones to block this entrance. We figured we ought to redeem ourselves by helping the future pranksters of Hogwarts with this.”

    “What?” George sputters.

    The boy smiles mysteriously. “You’ll see.”

    The twins watch the images unfolding over the mirror with astonished glee.

    “That’s perfect!” Fred cries.

    “No one will ever top it,” crows George. Dashing down the hallway, the twins pause and turn back to the mirror. It’s blank – any traces of the mysterious Padfoot are long gone.

    Looking down at the map, they mutter together, “Mischief managed,” and grin at each other. Not quite…

    Together, Fred and George tickle the pear in the portrait and pull the door open to reveal the inner workings of the Hogwarts kitchen. Smiling to themselves, they set about accomplishing the mischief the map believes is already managed.

    Later, they watch with hidden glee as McGonagall grimaces at the Great Hall. Slopping a bit of the stuff in their goblet into Percy’s plate, they watch him squirm. No one will ever top this prank.

    At the staff table, McGonagall lifts her chin slightly. “This is atrocious, Albus! We’ll never have any clue who told the house elves to fill all the dishes with rotten pumpkins!”

    Dumbledore murmurs, “I’m afraid not, Minerva.”

    He smiles to himself as he watches the redheaded Weasley twins from Gryffindor, remembering the antics of four young Gryffindors before them. He doubts anyone remembers the time when James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew were given detention with him for using their Transfiguration skills to change all the drinks in the Great Hall intoVeritaserum.

    It appears the Weasleys had discovered the mirror on the fourth floor. He chuckled softly. This beloved school had so many secrets that he could never hope to find. He only wished Fred and George well as they searched for the answers.

    “It’s all in the spirit of Halloween, don’t you think, Minerva? I rather think we won’t take points off at all.”

    Brushing off the professor’s grumbles, he swept his wand over the room and watched the relieved students dig into their meals, noting that everyone carefully avoided the pumpkin juice.
    Name: kumydabookworm
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: Care of Magical Creatures
    Topic: Challenge 2
    Word Count: 479
    Warnings: None

    Rubeus looks around at the decorations surrounding the room. He wished he could bring Aragog here - he was sure the spider would enjoy it amid the pumpkins and huge tables of food. He sighed to himself.

    "Wrestled with any trolls lately, Hagrid?" laughed Tom Riddle.

    Rubeus frowned to himself. Though he tried to be civil to everyone just like his da taught him, Tom Riddle was a tough nut to be nice to. In fact, all Slytherins just seemed downright rotten to him - always teasing him and torturing him.

    He looked down at his muddy shoes and frayed hem, blood rushing to his cheeks. Gently, he grabbed Tom's shoulders and forced him to the side, walking past him into the rainy night, heedless of the inclement. The hail felt like little needle pricks against his skin.

    Glancing about to make sure no one was watching, he made his way to the Forbidden Forest - the one place he felt he belonged. In the forest, he wasn't the biggest thing around - there were the trees and the creatures and the sun.

    There wasn't any sun today, though, he thought, looking up at the dark sky. Finally, he reached the edge of the trees, and he sat there quietly, thinking about the feast. Suddenly, he heard clicking. He spun to face the forest.

    "Aragog? Are yeh out there?" he called.

    Then, something blue shone amid the dark vines, and he walked slowly toward it. Finally, the shape of a horse formed amid the brush, and Rubeus gasped.

    "Stop! Don't come near!" a voice cried, and Rubeus froze. A horse that could talk?

    "What are yeh, exactly?"

    The creature looked at him with a human face. "A centaur. You're a human boy, and you will not come near me!"

    It was covered with scarlet dots of blood everywhere.

    "It's the hail, isn't it?" Rubeus asked. "It's cuttin’ yeh teh pieces. Let me help."

    "I don't need the pity of a human," the creature cried.

    "I don' pity yeh," said Rubeus amiably. "I was jus' tryin' teh help."

    He waved his wand carefully, placing a shield around the creature.

    "There," he said, satisfied, "tha' should take care of it."

    The creature hesitated. "My name is Bane."

    Rubeus stretched out a hand for the horse-man to shake. "I'm Rubeus Hagrid. Listen, I got to go back to the feast at school, but..."

    The centaur backed away. "It is Hallow's Eve; you're right. Humans should not be here." The creature pulled itself up regally. "Thank you, Rubeus. I am in your debt."

    Rubeus shrugged bashfully. "T'was nothin'. Happy Halloween, Bane."

    He headed back to the castle. The mud on his shoes didn't really matter so much anymore. He would bet his all that Tom Riddle had never seen a centaur in his life.

    Rubeus could feel a smile break over his face.
    Name: kumydabookworm
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: 499th
    Topic: Challenge 3
    Word Count: 499
    Warnings: None

    This was the 499th year Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington had been rejected from the Headless Hunt. He sighed at the letter, and gently held it over the flame where it popped in a burst of ethereal smoke. He pulled his fingers out before they, too, could pop. Although they would eventually grow back, burning ghost-flesh was not a pleasant experience.

    Why, oh why, did my birthday have to be on Halloween? Why not Christmas? Or Easter? Sir Nicholas despaired.

    Suddenly he gasped. Owls began hooting and flying everywhere. Nicholas looked around, disgruntled. He hadn't be that loud; there was no need to create a ruckus. Owls were such testy creatures. Casually, Nicholas slid through the wall into the adjacent classroom, pondering to himself.

    What if he could make near-headlessness, rather than decapitation, be the focus of Halloween? He grinned to himself. I wonder if I could get Anne Boleyn's executioner to be a guest at the party...

    Nicholas beamed at his party. The saws, the haggis, the ghosts - everything was perfect. Even better yet, there were no Hunters in sight. This very well could be the first year he would have a deathday party where he was the center of attention.

    Briskly, he clapped his hands and everyone fell silent.

    "Good evening, friends," he said mournfully. "Tonight is the night of my 499th deathday. It was a sad and tragic event that brought me to this crossroads, and tonight -" He paused for dramatic effect, enjoying the looks of his audeince. "Tonight, with the help of my dear executioner Thomas of Braxenly, I will reenact it for you."

    The gasps nearly drowned out the sounds of the horns. Nicholas' heart sunk, but he quickly called up Thomas. If this were going to happen, it must happen now. Otherwise, it would be too late.

    "Forty-five times that wretched knight chopped at my neck," he cried slightly louder, his voice high-pitched and panicked. "I ask you, my dear friends, to count with me."

    The horns began to get louder, but Thomas's sword drowned them out as he struck Nicholas' neck - and the block of wood beneath it repeatly.

    No one counted anything; in fact, people began to turn toward the sound of horses.

    "One!" cried Nick. "Two!" he said louder. "THREE! FOUR! FIVE!"

    Finally, the Hunters began their annual game of toss with the leader's head, and Nicholas sighed from his vantage point at the chopping block. Motioning to Thomas, the axe stopped, and Nicholas floated away from the gathered crowd. They were watching the Hunt, not the honored host of the party.

    He floated through a wall to sit away from the cheers. Next year, he would have to try something better. Suddenly, inspiration struck him. Perhaps if he invited Harry Potter, even Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore couldn't ignore him. Fame was a powerful tool - no one knew that better than Podmore himself.

    Nick grinned to himself in glee. His 500th deathday party would be the best yet.

  10. #20
    Jeffersonian Intern Gryffindor
    I See Dead People... In Mirrors
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    Name: solemnlyswear_x
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: Saying No
    Challenge #: 3
    Warnings: None
    Words: 335

    I hope this isn't too late...
    She hadn’t wanted to go, but she’d always had a problem with turning people down. She hated the look of disappointment people gave her whenever she said no to something. She’d been like that since she was a child, always giving her younger sister whatever she had asked. The smile had always been worth whatever she had given up.

    This time, it had been the way he had asked, as if he had expected her to say no.

    “Charlotte,” Nearly Headless Nick had said, stopping in front of her in the hallway, “am I correct in assuming you would have no interest in attending a Deathday party?”

    She didn’t speak at once, instead thinking of the time she had first learned of the parties.

    The Gryffindor prefect had explained in third year, and they hadn’t sounded pleasant. At all. It had been two years since then. Two years since she had learned of the rotting food and horrid music, but she still remembered the girl’s warning words. If you want to spend an awful night in the dungeons, be my guest. But you’d be better off saying no and staying in the Great Hall. He’ll be sad, but at least you’ll have a good time. Still, when he had asked, she couldn’t seem to take the prefect’s advice.

    “Well,” she began, looking anywhere but at Nick, “I was planning on going to the Halloween Feast...”

    Charlotte chanced a look at the ghost. His face showed signs of disappointment at another invitation turned down. She wondered how many students had told him they couldn’t make it.

    “But your party sounds like it would be a great way to spend an evening,” she said, speaking in a rushed tone, trying to get the words out before she could change her mind.

    “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay with your friends?”

    “I’m sure. I’d rather come to your party.”

    Immediately, Nearly Headless Nick’s face lit up, beaming at her.

    She smiled. Maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad.

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