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Thread: Weekly Drabble Challenge 7

  1. #11
    Ebil Gato Loco Ravenclaw
    He's The Dog... He's An Animagus...
    mugglemathdork's Avatar
    Join Date
    May 2006
    retired to EbilVille
    Name: mugglemathdork
    House: Ravenclaw
    Title: A Most Noble Art
    Warnings: None, maybe 'angst'
    Words: 498 -- *smiles meekly - yeah I know - but I had to honor my own career*

    As a young man, he never considered teaching a career option. It seemed so archaic, and he knew he was destined to be a great man – not some insignificant ‘school teacher.’ He was, after all, a very powerful wizard with a knack for the dark arts. His name was to go down in the history books.

    Ironically, fate thought otherwise, and he reluctantly took the position with its modest pay.

    At first, he covered his lack of experience around children by upholding a cold, distant, and strict demeanor. He knew he didn’t have a talent for the art of teaching, but prepared his lessons, ordered supplies, and picked a book for each level to study and read. He had never been a caring man, but was hopeful about this new prospect of teaching.

    After a disastrous first year of teaching, he turned in his letter of resignation stating ‘undue duress’ as one of his main reasons – knowing he’d rather go through a round of the Cruciatus Curse with the Dark Lord than deal with another batch of insolent prats. The headmaster had refused his resignation because he simply couldn’t have anyone teach Potions. He had a natural talent, the old man had stated.
    He decided to stay another year, but made an oath to never tolerate insolence again; his punishments became swift, effective, and often – unfair, especially to those in houses other than his own.

    He had never seen himself as a professor, or around children for the entirety of his life. He despised children – or at least, he thought he did.
    As the years passed, it became even more awkward to be instructing the children of his peers in the proper art of potion making.

    Quietly, he would observe their interactions with each other. More often than not, he would catch glimpses of them mimicking the actions, prejudices, and beliefs of their parents. Sometimes, a scowl would cross his face as anger would surface that these young eager minds were not making their own decisions – even miles away from the prying eyes of their parents.

    Teaching wasn’t a job he had eagerly taken on – he knew that much, but it was a job he learned to love. He did not know exactly when it became so important to him – but he knew that he missed it. It was a noble and a rewarding career.

    It was a static, yet stable job. The pay was modest. There were ample holidays scattered throughout the year. And then there was the ‘perpetual youth’ of his students – as he got older every year, his students never seemed to grow older. It was also quite rewarding seeing the rambunctious first years grown into mature seventh years – with the knowledge that they were the future of the Wizarding World.

    Quietly, Severus shifted in his cell in Azkaban, wondering who the new Potions Master was this year.
    Bitterly, he reflected, that his time as a professor had been the happiest years of his life.

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

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

  2. #12
    Masked One
    Name: Masked One
    House: Slytherin
    Title: Discretion
    Warnings: Amazingly, none.
    Words: 229

    “These are very rare books, young man.” Milton Dow turned a page gently, running a finger reverently along the magically preserved paper. “And of a controversial nature.” The last said delicately; these books were strictly forbidden under post-war Ministry rules as ‘Dark and dangerous materials of an inflammatory nature.’

    I looked blandly back at him. “Indeed. A person would have some difficulty procuring another copy of either text.”

    He raised an eyebrow. “One might wonder where you came across these copies.”

    “One would certainly wonder.”

    “Uncomfortable questions might be asked of the owner of these, about their origin. A prospective buyer might insist on some insurance against that,” he said, more pointedly now. We were sitting in his private study, and without exerting my attention I could sense at least three concealed hiding places. I imagined that there were more subtle ones as well. Somehow, I didn’t think this was the first illegal property he’d commissioned.

    “They no longer question wizards found in possession of such things,” I countered. “Azkaban is a mite more uncomfortable, I’ve heard.”

    He sank back, smiling slightly at me. “You’re shrewd, Mr. Nott. And discreet. I like that.” He twitched his wand, and I felt something heavy drop into the pocket of my robes. It chinked slightly.

    Sale made. Job finished. “I’ve made a career of it,” I said, giving him a neutral smile.

  3. #13
    I hope this can be considered as a job related drabble...

    Name: atkarid
    House: Hufflepuff
    Title: Miss Chloe Barkwith
    Warnings: Nada
    Words: 304

    “Excuse me, ma’am, but you need to sign in right here before entering the Daily Prophet’s office, unless you have a pass. And I’ll need to check your wand,” the receptionist kindly pointed out. Rita Skeeter slowly turned around and faced her. She straightened up and walked towards the desk, wobbling a bit in the high heels, but kept a thin smile on her face.

    “Name, Rita Skeeter,” she read as she wrote it down with a flourish, “time entered, nine o’clock; purpose, interview for a position as a reporter.” She gave a forced smile at the receptionist. “There.”

    “I’m sorry, miss, but believe that you aren’t on the list of applicants that deserve an interview,” the receptionist smirked. “Therefore, I must ask you to leave if your only intent is an interview.”

    Rita’s smile dropped, and stared coldly at the receptionist who stared back.

    “My only intent here is to become a reporter at the Daily Prophet, Michelle.” Rita sneered as she watched the receptionist give a little gasp at the fact that Rita remembered who she was.


    “Yes, I remember who you are, Michelle. Back in the good old days of Hogwarts; don’t you remember me?” Rita feigned hurtfulness, and then returned back to her normal, cold face. “I still know a couple secrets about you, and I wouldn’t mind spreading them around. That is, if you rely on this.”

    She swept her hand across the parchemnt with the names of all those who deserved an interview. Michelle bit her lip and stared at the list.

    “You wouldn’t mind, wouldn’t you?” Rita leaned in close, her eyes sparkling behind the green rims of her glasses. Michelle kept her eyes focused on the parchment, and then slowly stared right back at Rita.

    “I’ll need your wand checked, Miss Chloe Barkwith.”

    Rita smiled.

  4. #14
    Name: Megan (megan_lupin)
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: A Different Career
    Warnings: None
    Words: 310

    The tall young man wandered down the dark, stone corridors of Hogwarts, numerous things floating around in his mind. At sixteen years old, he knew that he was only to be in school for another year, and then, he would be thrown out into the world. All of his teachers were expecting great things from him.

    “He will be the youngest Minister,” they said. “He will be the best in the Ministry in five years. He will achieve this . . . He will achieve that . . .”

    He knew what they all said. Professor Slughorn was the most vocal about it, though, trying to set him up with more of his contacts to promote him in the government. But the government never really interested him, in a way.

    Oh, he would be great. He knew that, and there was no question that he would succeed. He was a Slytherin, after all, and Slytherins let nothing stand in the way of their ambition.

    But will they be prepared for just how great I will become?

    The simple answer was no. They all thought him the perfect student. He was already a prefect and there was no competition in his becoming Head Boy. They would never suspect him of actually harbouring other desires and ambitions.

    No, they would not suspect that in around two decades, the international community would know his name, and at the same time, fear to utter the words. They would not suspect that he would achieve levels of fear and greatness that no other wizard had ever even come close to achieving. No, to them, he would always be the same person – Tom Marvolo Riddle, excellent student, prefect, Head Boy.

    They believed he would follow the traditional, the legal, path to greatness.

    But they would be wrong. I have chosen a different career, a different path.

  5. #15

    My drabbles

    I was unsure of what to do, but here goes...

    Title-To be or Not to be

    I pause. Is this the right thing, do I really want to become an Unspeakable? They don’t seem to be very safe. This is the last chance, do I go through the doors, towards the career that I wanted when I was young, or do I go do a safe job, away from all mysteries that are beyond the door.
    This doesn’t feel right, I start to stumble away from the door, but I stop, realising that this place is drawing me. If I go in, and become an Unspeakable, I can’t leave. I want to be free, but this may be the only way to find out every mystery that has haunted my life.
    I have to do this. I take a few hesitant steps towards the door, before strengthening myself, and pushing the doors open. I am now a part of The Department Of Mysteries.
    Title-Books are not always to be...

    John Mackinaw hurried around the bookshelves of his wizarding bookshop in Hogsmeade. The business was terrible due to the location. It was in a small space, and it was dark and gloomy. There was no money to brighten it up, and if there were no big sales, then it would shut down.
    John could remember the conversation with his ex best friend that led to him becoming the shopkeeper of this dusty place.

    It was a cold winter’s day at the Leaky Cauldron. John and his friend Bob, owner of Flourish and Blots, were having a drink. Bob was gloating about how successful his store was, and that no one could be as good at this job as himself.
    John got angry, and swore that he would get better than his friend, and trying to ignore the sniggers from Bob, stormed out to prove it.

    John sighed, that had been two years ago, and customers had dwindled dramatically.
    The store was going to be shut down. John Mackinaw would be out of a job.

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

    Join Date
    Aug 2006
    Name: kehribar
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: A right path to follow
    Warnings: None
    Words: 402

    I hope this is in-topic...

    “A galleon for your thoughts?”

    Minerva slowly raised her head and blinked as if waking up from a nap. Albus Dumbledore’s twinkling eyes were looking warmly at her. She shook her head.

    “I can’t help but wonder,” she began, looking directly into the Headmaster’s eyes, “Have you ever realized how many of the students we talk with about their future careers end up following an entirely different path?”

    Dumbledore didn’t answer immediately. He sighed deeply, taking off his glasses, and took his time cleaning them on a small cloth that he conjured out of nowhere. He slowly put them back on, and looked at his deputy.

    “Yes, Minerva, I did,” he replied shortly, his voice collected and even. Minerva waited for him to continue, but when he didn’t, she asked:

    “And what do you think?”

    Dumbledore smiled.

    “What do you think?” he asked back. Minerva shifted her gaze towards the window.

    “I wonder if we could do something to prevent them from going in the wrong direction...”

    Dumbledore’s gaze saddened.

    “We are not the ones to make them choose their path, Minerva. We show them where they can go, and what awaits them in the end. They have the choice. It is up to them to decide, not us.”

    Minerva looked at him sceptically for a moment as if she was going to protest, but she changed her mind, and simply sighed.

    “Isn’t it even worse, Albus? They did have the chance to take the right path. They could just as easily take our advice and end up being Healers, Aurors, Ministry officials rather than becoming Death Eaters. Couldn’t we do anything to prevent them from taking the twisted paths that led them the opposite way?”

    Dumbledore did not answer her question. Minerva felt that he had something to say, but refrained himself from doing so. She sighed even deeper as a strong wave of sadness wrapped around her. The thought of her own students taking innocent lives as their career was unbearable.

    A soft knock on the door ended the silence.

    “Come in,” Dumbledore called. The door opened, and Remus Lupin, the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, walked in with a small smile over his face.

    “Good evening Albus, Minerva.”

    Dumbledore’s eyes met Minerva’s. She could read those blue eyes like an open book.

    She had at least one student who had ended up on the right path, after all.
    The Run of the Mill

    The phenomenal banner is by MissBean

  7. #17
    Name: TheMadMugggle
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: Unexpected
    Warnings: None
    Words: 315

    I just knew this was going to come up sooner or later. The twins had done a remarkable job keeping quiet about it on our weekly visit to their flat, but it couldn't last forever.

    “So when do you start Auror training little brother?” George asked.

    “Yeah. The war's been over for a year and all you do is sit around on your arse all day,” was Fred's brilliant reply. Neither one of them understood what my beloved was going through.

    “I'm not going to be an Auror.”

    I am still not sure how you can have an uproar with only two people. I guess that it's possible if the two in question are the Weasley twins. But the uproar only proved that they didn't understand. Going on about the Ministry not letting Ron in after he had helped to defeat Voldemort.

    “If I find out that prat of a brother, Percy, is the one blocking you,” said Fred

    “I'll hex him into next week!” finished George.

    “It's not the Ministry, it's me. I don't want it anymore. I've had all the dark wizard chasing I want for a lifetime. I just haven't figured out what to do next.”

    “Well you have the most brilliant witch of our time for a girlfriend. Hasn't she got any suggestions?”

    “I have had several, but he doesn't want to do any of them.”

    Then the twins looked at each other. Being around the Weasleys a lot, I had gotten to know that look. Fred and George were about to do something rare. They were about to give good advice.

    “Well, little brother, you could always follow our example and make up your own job.”

    “But what do I know enough about to open a store?”

    “Whatever you love the most,” I said.

    And then he smiled.

    “Do you think a Quidditch shop would go over well in Hogsmeade?”

  8. #18
    Name: Jenn22291
    House: Gryffindor!
    Title: Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes
    Warnings: None
    Words: 288

    Fred and George were alone in their dorm. “Hey George,” said Fred, breaking the silence.

    George looked over to his twin brother. “Yeah?”

    “I’ve been thinking that something needs to be done about that old Umbridge bat.”

    “Yeah, I’ve been thinking the same thing.” George smirked. “So, should we invent something special for her?”

    Fred chuckled grimly. “Yes, that. I think it’s time to test out that Portable Swamp idea we’ve been thinking about. But then…” he paused.

    “What?” George asked with interest.

    “And then, we do something that will be talked about by future Hogwarts students for decades, maybe even centuries.”

    George was intrigued.

    “George, do you really think it’s necessary to finish our last year here at Hogwarts? I mean, we already know what we’re going to do and it won’t involve any of the rubbish we’re learning now.”

    “Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” said George.

    “So why stick around? I say we flood one of the corridors, and as soon as Umbridge and Filch think they’re going to have some fun with torturing us we take off on our brooms and leave the mess for them to clean up!”

    George was practically jumping up and down with excitement. “Brilliant! But what do we do then?”

    Fred laughed. “This is my favorite part, and I think it will be yours too. Have you seen the ad in the Daily Prophet regarding the vacant building in Diagon Alley?”

    Fred didn’t need to say any more. “Weasleys’s Wizard Wheezes…” George said in disbelief. “We can open it!”

    Fred smiled. “Exactly!”

    “When can we do it?” asked George eagerly.

    “Patience, brother. It will happen soon, when the time is right.”

    The two grinned widely at each other.

  9. #19
    Name: kumydabookworm
    House: Gryffindor
    Title: Never Again
    Word Count: 499
    Warnings: Character Death

    Albus Dumbledore faced another smiling Ministry official with a gentle chuckle. These people didn't seem to understand that his words had no hidden meaning.

    "I'm afraid the position is not for me, Gerald. I am quite happy with my students and this school."

    The man glanced at him in disbelief. "But Albus, you'd be a shoe-in! Everyone wants you - the country needs you! The country is ready for a new Minister."

    "I'm sorry, Gerald, but I refuse. This is where I belong," Albus said quietly, his voice gentle but firm.

    "Well, alright," muttered Gerald obligingly. "If you really think..."

    "I do."

    With a wave of his wand, Dumbledore cut off the Floo connection and stared at the merry fire. The portraits of Headmasters and Headmistresses long gone surrounded him, watching with careful eyes as the wizard lost himself in thought.

    He awoke to a knock on his door. Bleary-eyed, he opened the door to face Theodore Thompson of the school's Board of Governors.

    "Albus, Headmaster Dippet passed away in his sleep a few moments ago," said Thompson gravely.

    "Merlin!" gasped Albus aloud. "I thought the binding spell on his heart would surely keep him alive!"

    Thompson nodded his head sadly. "Yes, that was a brilliant piece of magic you cast. That's the only reason why Armando was able to last until the end of the year."

    "We will miss him. Though he deserves the great adventure of death, we will miss him for our own sakes," Albus murmured.

    Silence reigned for a moment.

    "Anyway," continued Thompson briskly, ignoring the tears glistening in Albus' eyes, "the board would like you to take on the office next year."

    Albus smiled. "It is what I've always wanted, Theodore. That is, if you all are sure of your choice."

    Thompson eyed him carefully. "Only one thing left to do, then," he said. "Veritas!"

    Albus felt the Truth spell settle around him like a cowl.

    "Why do you want this job?"

    "I want to protect Hogwarts - protect its students - from the evils I fear are coming." Tom Riddle's dangerous eyes flashed through Albus' mind as a fluttery feeling filled his stomach. He had left that day - left the boy unwatched while he spent time with his mother - and a girl had died.

    The spell lifted, and Albus' shoulders felt lighter. The fluttery feeling faded.
    Had that been fear or excitement?

    "Congratulations, Headmaster Dumbledore." Thompson smiled briefly and swept off down the hall.

    Shaking with disbelief and contentment, Albus lay back in bed. Tomorrow, he would heighten the wards on his beloved school as his first act as Headmaster.

    Never again would a student be hurt in this school - not while he was here. Never again.

    Quietly, Phineas Black spoke, and Dumbledore started out of the memory to look at the portrait.

    "Dumbledore, I'm glad you stayed," said Phineas grudgingly.

    Dumbledore nodded his thanks, and felt a smile curve over his lips. "I will never leave, Phineas."

    Never again.

  10. #20
    My first time in this! If it's too late, that's all cool, I was just bored...

    Name: babekitty_92
    House: Slytherin!
    Title: Make up your mind Mr. Black!
    Warnings: Does McGonagall getting mad count?
    Words: Do I have to??

    "Ahh, Mr. Black, take a seat," McGonagall said in her normal tone and Sirius sat down.

    "For once it is lovely to see you not sitting here with Mr. Potter because of some silly prank-"

    "I prefer that you call them ingenious, Professor as they are quite clever and you know it," Sirius cut in with a cheeky grin and she sighed before looking at his marks.

    "Well, everything seems to be pretty good, your Transfiguration is beyond 6th year level, what have you been up to?" She asked him. He was very good at his classes, but he never once did his homework. Until about a month ago when they looked at Animagus transformations...

    "Well, a little bit of this, and a little bit of that..." He trailed off and put on his "innocent" face which she knew to take as a "Don't-ask-Professor-because-I-won't-say" look nowadays.

    "What have you thought of becoming when you leave Hogwarts?"

    "Well, an Auror, a Curse-Breaker, a Hit-Wizard, Medi-wizard, Unspeakable, Quidditch player, Drummer for that new band, Healer, Muggle-Realations officer, teacher, writer, pub owner, joke-shop owner-"

    "Yes, yes, but what do you really want to be?"

    "I just told you Professor, I don't really want to repeat it, but I want to be an Auror, Curse-Breaker, Hit-Wizard, Medi-wizard, Unspeakable, Quidditch player-"

    "Sirius Black you need to make up your mind!" McGonagall scolded and Sirius smirked.

    "But that's the thing Professor, I simply can't. If I'm a Healer it could mean I might have to keep my mother alive if something goes wrong which I don't want to and if I become a Quidditch star I have to work with that annoying Bagman guy and possibly could ruin my lovely complextion and if I become the drummer my hands could-"

    "Mr. Black, you don't need to choose exactly one, but it could be helpful with your subjects!" The woman tried breathing in slowly.

    "Did you want a glass of water, Professor, or shall I continue?"

    "Just go, I'll put something together with you some other time," She croaked and he grinned at her again.

    "You know I can never make up my mind Professor, what's the use?" And with that he left to go snog some girl he met at the last Quidditch after-party.

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