August Drabble Challenge: What a Pair! — RESULTS!!!

[ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor]

As I have come to learn, many of us enjoy a good ship. While this activity is not necessarily about rarepairs, it is centring around pairings that are new to you in particular. That means that it could be anything or anyone! Très exciting, no? My challenge to you is this:

Write a drabble with a pairing that you have never written before. It could be a canon couple or a non-canon couple. The only restrictions are that they must be ships you've never written , and both characters involved in the ship must be canon characters. You are permitted to use background OCs, but the individuals who are in the couple must have an existence in canon and be in the time period JKR put them — no Hermione time-turning to go date Godric Gryffindor (LOL). It sounds constrictive, but it's really not.

I'm sure I don't have to tell you this, but as per MNFF submission rules, there is to be NO incest or bestiality. So, sorry to all you Hedwig/Voldemort or Bill/Ginny shippers, but te ne permites pas! Also, in accordance to the rules, you must affix proper rating and warning tags to your drabble. Nothing above 6th-7th Years will be permitted, and content of a strong sexual, violent, or profane nature is prohibited, as this is a family forum and viewable by all. If there are naughty words, please edit them like f*** or b****, or the forum censor will **** them entirely and no one will know what you mean.

This month, we're going to do things a bit differently. Instead of posting the drabbles yourself, you will be sending them to me via PM with the entry form below. I will be posting them anonymously, and next month, we will VOTE on the winners! Yes, we're going to actually have drabbles JUDGED! The winner will then be awarded with not only the prestige of winning, but they will also carry away ten house points for their excellence. If there are five or more entrants, a second place will be awarded with a five point prize. You may submit up to three drabbles if you like, but bear in mind that all the drabbles will be voted on individually and your entries will be competing against themselves. If there are less than five entries, I may extend the deadline.

Due to the nature of the activity, I'm going to extend the word limit to 1000, with a minimum of 300. No one dislikes butchering content for the sake of word count more than me. My best advice is to plan for less in case you do get more. It's less painful than to chop something you love to bits.

***EDIT*** I have decided that, because the activity is anonymous, it cannot be used as a Monthly Activity for the month of August. BUT, if you do participate, you CAN use it as your Monthly Activity for the month of September. Think of it as a way that you can get a chunk of your work done before the flip of the calendar!

This is a nice opportunity for those of you who missed the Summer Swap to do some SPEWly writing. With that, get drabbling!

[b]Username: [/b]
[b]Title: [/b]
[b]Pairing: [/b]
[b]Rating: [/b]
[b]Warnings: [/b]
[b]Word Count: [/b]
[b]Author's Note: [/b]Please keep this vague as to not give yourself away. This space is for supplemental facts to aid the reader in understanding your story. No more than 50 words. 

All entries are due in my inbox by 12am PST (-8 BST) on 31 August! Voting will commence directly after.

[ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor]

Title:* Under Moonlight
Pairing:* Charlie Weasley/ Oliver Wood. Oh yes.
Rating:* 3rd-5th I think.
Warnings:* Slash/ Violence/ Sexual situations
Word*Count:* 999
Author's*Note:* Jess- thank you for raising the word limit. It was horrible cutting this as it was.

* * *

Oliver was sitting in the woods, thinking about the match. He’d wanted to discuss it with his family but they were already drunk. He had walked from the campsite to the woods to think about it in peace, under the cloudy sky, grateful for the cool breeze, which kept his thoughts active.

He loved the way that a match could be won without the snitch, if the Keeper and the Chasers were good. When he had tried out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team in his third year, he’d wanted to be Seeker or Chaser. They were the people talked about and cheered in the common room after matches. Particularly Charlie Weasley.

Oliver had been furious when he was told by Charlie Weasley that he would make a better Keeper. Oliver laughed at the memory. Of course he, only thirteen years old, had been too awkward to admit his anger to Charlie, a Gryffindor hero, but had stormed off to the Forbidden Forest, staying there until it turned dark, before returning to the Quidditch pitch and mulling over what he must have done wrong. He knew that Keepers went unnoticed, until they started making mistakes, at which point they were blamed for everything.

Therefore he could not and did not make mistakes. After his first match, which Gryffindor won 220 to 30 points, his involvement went unnoticed so, finding his temper rising, he walked to the dorms.

“Oliver!”

He knew that voice—he’d heard it shouted at him across a Quidditch pitch several times already.

“What?” he’d snapped, turning around, and too annoyed to care about Charlie thinking less of him for losing his temper.

Charlie had looked slightly put out, but said, “I just wanted to tell you well done—I didn’t have a chance after the match. Trust me, with the Keeper we had last year, we’d probably have lost. You’re good.”

Oliver stared at him, unsure what to say. Charlie grinned, clapping Oliver on the back, and saying, “Once people realise how good you are, you’ll have to learn to take a compliment. You’ll be getting a few of them I wager,” before returning to the party.

Why was he thinking about this? Oliver thought. He’d meant to use this time to think about the World Cup, rather than the beginnings of what he hoped would be a long Quidditch career.

“Oliver?”

He stood up, surprised to see someone standing next to him. The man stepped forward and Oliver grinned, getting to his feet and saying, “Charlie. Good to see you. How have you been?”

“Good thanks. My brother said you’d been signed by Puddlemere United. I knew you’d go far.”

Oliver wasn’t quite sure what to say. Although he’d been on Charlie’s Quidditch team, he’d been a bit too young for them to be really friends, and part of him, he knew and was slightly embarrassed by, idolised Charlie.

“It’s just a reserve for now,” he managed to say. He remembered idolising Charlie’s Quidditch ability, but never his good looks. It was so dark, Oliver thought, anyone would probably look good in this light. Just to fill what he thought had become an awkward silence, although was only a matter of seconds, he said, “How are you family?”

“Good thanks. Are you here with family or—?”

“Family,” Oliver said quickly.

“Good,” Charlie answered just as quickly.

Oliver was about to ask why, but then thought that that would be awkward. Even in the dim light, he could see Charlie’s lips tweaked in a funny little smile. However he didn’t say anything, just sitting down, and Oliver sat down beside him.

They talked. It was strangely easy to talk to him, when he couldn’t really see his face. Oliver asked him what he had wondered ever since Charlie had left Hogwarts.

“Why didn’t you go professional? You could have, I’ve heard you mentioned by scouts, not just your family.”

Charlie laughed, slightly wearily Oliver thought.

“So many people have asked me that. I don’t know. It just seemed so competitive and I didn’t want that.” He shrugged. “It was a gut instinct. Didn’t you hesitate before signing?”

“No,” Oliver said, this time knowing that why he spoke quickly. He then laughed, saying, “It’s odd, isn’t it? I’m having the career I always thought you’d be having by now. You’re just looking after dragons.”

The clouds had parted, and moonlight was now falling through the branches. It was very bright, far brighter than the distant lights of the campsite. Although Oliver thought those were getting brighter as well. Someone must have started a campfire.

“Just dragons?” Charlie exclaimed in a tone of mock shock, but Oliver could tell he was amused. “Look here.” Charlie pulled up his shirt, revealing a large scar, in sharp focus due to the moonlight. Oliver, however, found himself gazing at the taut chest rather than the scar across it. He realised he was staring and looked away, but Charlie grasped his chin and kissed him. Oliver didn’t need any more encouragement, twisting his hand in Charlie’s red hair and nearly falling on top of him. Which neither of them seemed to mind.

Oliver was too engrossed in Charlie’s lips to notice, and growled in annoyance when Charlie suddenly broke away, saying, “Is someone screaming?”

Frowning, Oliver nodded and stood up, pulling Charlie up after him. They helped each other replace the clothes they’d managed to remove in such a short period of time, before running to the edge of the woods, stopping short at the chaos before them.

“I’ve got to find my family,” Oliver shouted, already walking through the burning tents, and the screaming people, in the direction of his parents’ tent, hoping they hadn’t been so drunk as to not notice the fire around them.

He felt a hand twist into his, pulling him around, and lips crushing against his, before a hasty whisper, “See you soon.”

Oliver nodded, and they both ran in separate directions to search for their families.

[ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor]

Title: A Game of Fire
Pairing: Susan Bones/Daphne Greengrass
Rating: 6th-7th years
Warnings: Sexual Situations, Slash
Word Count: 1000
Author's Note:Very loosely based off of the Amy Winehouse song 'Back to Black.'

* * *

Susan fingers a small tear in the side of her lacy black slip with a frown, tossing around the idea of leaving the room to get her wand and mend it. A small, sardonic smile plays at the corners of her mouth; she knows she won’t risk it, not when the door in front of her might open at any time. Briefly she wonders if the waiting will last all night, but if there’s one thing she knows she can count on it’s that Daphne Greengrass has never been late. Not for her.

And, like clockwork, the door opens at a quarter to midnight.

The whisper comes before Daphne steps out of the shadows. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting, Susan,” she says, her blood red lips puckering around the name.

Susan feels her face grow warm as she replies, “I haven’t been waiting.”

“Oh?” Daphne smiles, slow and sultry, and rests her hands on Susan’s shoulders.

“No…”

The rest of Susan’s excuse is buried beneath an impossibly unsteady heartbeat and bitingly furious kisses. It’s a hurting sort of desire; all she can think of is Daphne, Daphne, Daphne and all she wants is more, but her thoughts and wants are stained by the knowledge that this won’t last.

The hesitation seeps into the kisses, and she pries herself away with great difficulty. Daphne gasps, chest heaving and eyes nearly shut. Susan looks away and wonders what it would be like if the desire wasn’t like fire between them.

Could she fall in love again?

She appraises Daphne, who stares back with her frosty grey eyes. The lust is there, a void between them. But there is no love. Susan is surprised to find she is relieved at this. It hurts to want, but she knows the pain is ten times worse when the want turns to need.

“Do you want me to leave?” Daphne asks, her warm breath grazing Susan’s neck.

“No,” Susan replies. She quickly realises that Daphne already knew that.

“I thought not,” Daphne murmurs, her lips teasing the soft skin just below Susan’s ear. Susan moans slightly.

Her thoughts are swallowed by their kisses and frozen by Daphne’s fingers as they trail downward, leaving her skin ablaze. She feels the hum of laughter in Daphne’s chest, pressed against hers. It puts just the right amount of shame and embarrassment into the touches to give Susan that extra burn to the desire that she so craves.

Daphne’s lips smash against Susan’s once more, her hands wrapping around Susan’s waist and pulling her towards the bedroom. Susan closes her eyes and gives in to the fire.

* * *

“Susan.”

She feels her shoulders being poked and prodded and groggily opens her eyes. Daphne is standing over her, clothed once more in that tight red dress that clings closely to her voluptuous curves. Susan feels the desire beat in her heart.

“Yes?”

Daphne grins; her lips are once again glossed with a bold, red sheen, looking as though they have never been kissed before. “I had fun tonight.”

Susan’s mouth feels dry. She knows what is coming and she tries to quiet the part of her that shouts for more. “I did, too.”

“Same time next week?” Daphne asks, though they have been doing this for so long that there is really no need to confirm the trivialities anymore.

For a moment, Susan pauses to see if she can keep Daphne in that state of falling suspense that Susan somehow always finds herself in. But Daphne is still smiling and looking at her as though she already knows that Susan won’t resist, even though she should.

And she is right.

“That works for me,” Susan replies, nodding and trying to keep the tremors out of her voice. She wonders why this is sounding more and more like a business arrangement.

“I’m glad,” Daphne says in a teasingly low voice. She lowers her head and gently kisses Susan on the lips.

It’s the gentleness that sets her off. Susan isn’t used to it anymore and it sends an uncomfortable memory to the front of her mind. She snakes her hand behind Daphne’s head and pulls her closer into a hard kiss that is full of edges and sting. For a moment, Daphne lets Susan lead, and Susan can taste the weakness on Daphne’s tongue. It strikes her for the first time that this might not be just desire for Daphne.

And then, just as suddenly, Daphne wrenches away. Her eyes look less icy and more vulnerable, but it only takes her a moment to blink the look away.

“Next time,” she whispers, smirking that cocky grin again as she straightens her dress. Susan sits dumbly on the bed, and feels herself nod even though she does not know if she agrees or not.

“Oh, and Susan?” Daphne calls over her shoulder as she begins to walk away, her voice high and lilting. “I’ll be sure to tell Theo you said hi.”

Theo.

The name takes Susan by surprise; it is the one thing they never speak of through a mutual unspoken agreement. It hurts with an exploding pain to suddenly have him there in the room, a presence she let herself believe could disappear forever.

“We’re a bit busy finalising the wedding plans,” Daphne continues, “but I’ll be sure to tell him you give your love.”

A short cry of anguish escapes Susan’s lips as Daphne closes the door behind her. Susan feels her eyes sting, crying for a pain that she has not let herself feel during the past few months.

In a sudden surge of hatred, she wishes she could tell him about her and Daphne. She wonders how he would feel about his fiancée playing this same game every Wednesday night, always with Susan.

Susan leans back against the sheets and closes her eyes; her lashes are wet and clumped together from the tears. She remembers why she prefers it when there is only desire.

[ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor]

Title: As the Stars Bore Witness
Pairing: Katie/Harry
Rating: 3rd-5th
Warnings: Very mild profanity, sexual situations, references to character death and implications of suicide
Word Count: 1000
Author's Note: Because I know our SPEW queen has had a craving for these two of late... Cutting 600 words from this almost drove me mad though!

* * *

Katie Bell screwed her eyes shut against the icy windy that stole the tears she refused to shed and flung her head back. She was the personification of the spirit of ecstasy, but there was no joy in her reckless flight or the hollow growl that forced itself from her lips. Her fingers gripped the shaft of her broom so tightly her knuckles shone livid through taught skin and splinters burrowed into her fingertips.

This was it.

As always though, some instinct, stronger than any pain, made her pull up at the last second. Her toes ploughed a furrow in the soft earth, and her momentum toppled her sideways, sending a numbing jolt through her as she landed hard and rolled across grass. She came to a stop unexpectedly, thudding against something that crumpled on top of her.

Opening her eyes, she saw dark hair and surprised green eyes just inches from her own face.

"You shouldn't be here," Katie said automatically, starting to extricate herself from the tangle of limbs and stand. "This is private property."

"Katie? Katie Bell?"

Katie looked down in shock at the now familiar face of the man that she'd barely glanced at before. "Harry?"

The most famous man in the Wizarding world nodded and got to his feet. "Your coach said I could fly here out of hours — I live nearby. I didn't think anyone would be here this late."

"I wanted to get a bit of extra training in," Katie said, unsure why she was explaining.

"That didn't look like training." Harry brushed the dust off his jeans and picked back up his broom.

"Wh-what?" Katie forced out through gritted teeth as she turned her back on him to avoid meeting his gaze on the pretext of retrieving her own broom.

"Manoeuvres like that'd get you sent off from any professional match for dangerous play."

She wanted to be angry with him for sticking his nose into her life where it didn't belong, but it was hard when he was right — Katie was reckless. She'd been performing this self-same ritual night-after-night, but no one was supposed to see.

No one really did see her anymore. Everyone who cared was dead. She'd lost her best friend and the man she loved.

"It looked like you didn't care if you made it out of that dive."

Katie just shrugged. He was right: she didn't care a damn.

"Why?" he challenged her.

The level stare she gave him would've chilled many a lesser man into walking away, but Harry had faced far worse than her, and the words strained within her so fiercely that for once she didn't flee from the question.

"I'm not meant to be alive," she said, the words somewhere between prayer and confession. "I should've died in the Battle.

"There was a Killing Curse coming my way." Her words were a mechanical drone, as if she wanted Harry only to leave a message after the tone, not bear the sacrament of her deepest confessions. "I saw it. It seemed so slow as it came towards me, but my feet were paralysed, like some part of me knew this was how it was meant to end. I closed my eyes ... but it never came.

"Wh-when I opened them, Leanne was in a heap at my feet. She'd stepped in front of the curse for me. She was my best friend, and she died for me, but she wasn't supposed to."

Katie choked on the words and hot tears burnt her eyes. "I resented her for it. That's wrong, isn't it? I cheated death, but I felt like I'd been cheated."

Harry said nothing; his gaze was level and unchanged. Katie wanted him to burst, to call her out as the ungrateful wretch she was, but he wouldn't.

"I tried to carry on living," Katie protested as if he'd accused her as she accused herself. "Even though it felt false and hollow, I tried, but then Oliver had his accident. It was so stupid. We'd survived so much, and then one fall in training and he was gone, and I had nothing left at all. I felt like I was being punished; I wasn't meant to live after all."

Katie felt her knees buckling beneath her, and she leant on her broom for support. "I don't know why I'm telling you all this," she said lamely. "I know it's selfish when at least I'm still alive. I couldn't tell anyone. They all thought I should be glad and counting my blessings, at least until Oliver. Then everyone said what a senseless, tragic accident, but I knew it wasn't. I knew it was my penance."

"I get it," Harry said, his voice low. They were alone. Only the implacable stars that flickered like altar candles above them were witnesses; still he whispered as if the stars might judge. "I died, but I got to come back, and I didn't know why. I got a second chance and others didn't. I didn't feel like I had any right to be alive. I realised though that I had to make myself feel alive."

Katie stared at him. "You make it sound so easy."

"It is." Harry stepped closer. She could feel his breath against her neck. It felt vital and real — something that belonged to another time, another girl.

"How?" Her words were a fervent prayer, begging for salvation or at least a final judgement.

"Like this." Harry's lips were hot against her own. She'd been cold as the grave for so long and now the heat of him coursed through her as he drew her tight against him. The warmth was momentary, she knew. It'd be gone when the contact with him slipped away from her skin. It went no distance towards the absolution she craved, but as his fingers closed around her hip, Katie could feel the bruising pressure of them on her flesh, and she welcomed the sting and the need and the rawness.

[ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor]

Attention SPEW!!!


I would really like at least one more entry for this activity, so I'm extending the deadline to the 7th of September or until I receive two more entries. Any last-minute entries will still be eligible for winning as well as the use of this activity as their monthly activity requirement (but can only post it in the thread once voting has ended). I have thus far ADORED the stories, and I really hope to get one more, if only for greedy reasons. ♥

[ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor]

Title: Bound by the Surprise
Pairing: Neville/Luna
Rating: 1st-2nd
Warnings: None
Word Count: 664
Author's Note: This is based on Adele’s Someone Like You. I do not own the song.

* * *

At midnight on 2nd September 2006, to Neville and Hannah Longbottom, a beautiful son, Frank Longbottom.

Frank’s parents wish it to be known that he has been named after his deceased paternal grandfather.

You stare at the announcement in the Prophet for a long, long time. Each letter in its perfect typescript seems to be gloating at you, goading you, almost.

A beautiful son... You try to convince yourself that you're happy for him — happy for her, too. Happy that he’s settled down, found someone as good as Hannah... but you know that you would have been happier, far happier, with Neville himself.

But he wouldn’t.

* * *

“Luna,” Neville says, disbelief filling his voice as he opens the door of his flat above the Leaky Cauldron.

“Neville,” you reply, not bothering to attempt for a smile. “Congratulations on your child.”

“Who is it, Neville?” A voice — Hannah’s, and sure enough, she emerges from the living room, a sleeping baby Frank on her hip.

“Hello, Hannah,” you say politely, before turning back to Neville. He looks away, out of the window, anywhere except at you. “I just thought I would offer my congratulations on your baby—”

Hannah raises her eyebrows, and realising you haven’t brought any kind of gift, you add smoothly, “—I also wanted to offer a gift.” You remove your Butterbeer cork necklace, and without invitation, you fasten it around the baby’s neck.

He starts crying, but somehow, you do not regret waking him from his slumber. Hannah glares at you, but you barely notice; you only have eyes for Neville at the moment.

“How did you find out about him?” he asks finally, as Hannah takes Frank away. He still refuses to meet your eyes.

“I was surprised, old friend, that you didn’t put your announcement in the Quibbler — it’s more of a quality newspaper than the Prophet will ever be.” As usual, you don't answer his question directly, instead making him feel uncomfortable.

Neville sighed. “How are you? You look well,” he commented, finally looking at her.

“As do you,” you reply quietly. “You don't quite look like a father yet, but you are getting there.”

“Luna!” he says, annoyance flickering in his eyes before he realises that you have done the impossible.

“Luna Lovegood, making a joke?” he says softly. “What is the world coming to?” You don't reply, and he adds, a touch uneasily, “So, have you found anyone?”

“I've been looking. None of them were like you,” you answer honestly.

He looks even more uncomfortable at this, and you secretly relish seeing him squirm. But only for a moment.

Before Neville can say anything, Hannah comes out of the bedroom, baby-less this time. There is an expectant expression on her face, and you take this as your cue to leave.

“It was nice seeing you, Luna,” says Neville.

“And you,” you say, nodding at Hannah. “I wish you two all the best.”

You glance at Neville one final time; the last vestiges of your relationship, mistakes and all, hang in the silence between you. Yet, somehow, you don't regret it. What's done is done, and you wouldn't change a thing should you have been given the opportunity. Hannah watches your wordless exchange curiously, and perhaps, a little irritably.

Raising your hand in farewell, you turn to leave, but you have taken only a few steps outside the flat when you hear your name.

“You make sure you owl me when you find this person, okay?”

“We had a good time,” you say, again avoiding his question.

“We did, Luna, and I want to know what’s going on in your life, where you’re travelling, who you’re with...”

“You needn’t worry, Neville. He’ll be like you. Just... don't forget me.”

But instead of looking uncomfortable this time, he slowly nods and holds out his hand.

“Friends?” he asks. In reply, you grasp it, and before you can think about what you’re doing, you kiss his cheek and leave.

[ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor]

Okay, now that the deadline is, well... deadlined and all, I figured you all might like to vote. Follow the link, and ye shall vote.

Please read the drabbles closely before voting. While, if you participated, you may vote for yourself if you like, it would really be the best thing to vote for the drabble you liked best. SPEW prizes excellence, so the most excellent one should win, I think.

If you are not in SPEW, I encourage you to vote, as well as to get others to vote. It is a fun activity and was a blast for me to manage, but it's nice when I can bestow a little bit of extra recognition upon my hard-working SPEWers.

VOTE NOW!

Voting will continue until the end of the day of Tuesday, 20 September (11:59 PM, PST)

[ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor]

PLEASE VOTE!!!

I would very much like to get a certain number of votes before closing the poll. It would be nice if the winner is more clear-cut, as I know how hard it will be to pick one should the vote be tied. D:

[ToBeOrNotToBeAGryffindor]

Annnnnnnnnnnnd, QUANTAM LOCK!

Ladies and any lurking gentlemen, we have a winner!

But first, I would love to thank both Soraya and Alex and even non-SPEWer Carole (plus anyone who pimped the voting that I didn't notice) for linking the vote in your signatures. I'm sure that helped out a lot, as the number of votes doubled in two days.

At any rate, here is the master list of stories, if you haven't guessed already. Quite a nice variety, as we had Male SSP, Female SSP, a rarepair, and a more well-known non-canon pair. Anyway, here goes:

Under Moonlight — Charlie/Oliver by Alex/welshdevondragon

A Game of Fire — Susan/Daphne by Ariana/lucca4

As the Stars Bore Witness — Harry/Katie by Hannah/h_vic

Bound by the Surprise — Neville/Luna by Soraya/babewithbrains

Special shout-outs to: Alex, for being the first entrant; Hannah, for writing this pairing because I subliminally planted the idea in her head; Soraya, for taking advantage of the extended deadline. But, most of all, here is the shout-out you've been waiting for:

FIRST PLACE

Ariana / lucca4
A Game of Fire

Shower her and her gorgeous drabble with sweets SPEWly cheer and she carries her ten points to the Lion's Den!

I was so impressed with the quality of the drabbles and would love to see them all turned into one-shots some day. I know most of you had to cut even from 1K, so I'm sure you have outtakes lurking somewhere. Anyway, this was such a fun activity that I would SO like to do this again at least annually. Thank you, ladies, for your avid participation that made this friendly little competition a success. You are free to post the drabbles where you like, expand them, or whatever. And you are DEFINITELY free to squee in this thread at your leisure. I'll leave it up until the end of the month.

[welshdevondragon]

Of course it was Ariana's drabble- the others were excellent (I was even quite pleased with mine-unusually for me ) but Ariana's was just gorgeous. Well done!!