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Thread: WEEKLY CHALLENGE. The Founders- Week 1. RESULTS

  1. #11
    Name: Joy
    House: Ravenclaw
    Title: Debt Repaid
    Ratings/Warnings: 1st-2nd Years, none
    Word Count: 466
    Favourite Founder: Rowena Ravenclaw
    A/N: I have wondered since DH came out what exactly made the Founder's items so special... And this was the perfect way for me to explain it! :]


    “You must hide it well. No goblin will let this slip past without putting up a valiant fight.”

    A creature, no more than half of the height of the man standing before him, ran his hand over the blade once more, admiring his handiwork. His every instinct told him to run away from the man, taking such a prize with him. Unfortunately for the creature, he was a goblin – a goblin whose life was indebted to the wizard standing before him.

    “Thank you, Ragnuk,” the man replied, his fingers curling around the rubies at the hilt. “I will take care of it.”

    The sound of a horse trotting by outside – most likely from the Muggle village down the road – faded in and out as it passed the little shack on the side of a hill. The two in the room fell quiet as they waited for all noise to cease. There could be enemies anywhere.

    After the two were sure that they were once again alone, Ragnuk watched the wizard carefully pull a hat out of the pouch at his hip. The man quietly cast a spell on the hat that let him slip the sword easily inside. The goblin observed the name GRYFFINDOR disappear, letter by letter, between the folds of the tattered fabric.

    “You are a very noble wizard,” the goblin added before the man turned to leave. “Not every man is willing to rescue a goblin from the reign of a fellow man.”

    The man paused, locking his gaze with that of the goblin.

    “The tension that Muggles feel towards those of magical blood are stronger than the forces that separate wizard from creature,” Gryffindor replied carefully, as not to rock the delicate balance of their relationship. “We must set aside our boundaries if we want to preserve the magical world.”

    Silence grew between the two.

    Words of peace aside, Ragnuk knew this man still did not trust him. No matter, the feeling was mutual. A goblin was not made to rely on a wizard. However, he knew that his debt would never be truly paid until he provided the dueler with compensation for such bravery. A goblin does not leave debts unpaid – Ragnuk was no exception.

    “Well, then, good luck, fellow warrior,” Ragnuk bowed his head slightly, one eye still on the pouch. “Take care of my work.”

    Godric Gryffindor smiled, “I will. Only those truly worthy of the price it took to receive this shall be able to acquire its power.”

    With those words, uttered in such concrete confidence, the young man strode out of the shack. A few mutterings later, and his frame disappeared into the sunlight streaming through the door.

    Only time would tell if the wizard that had saved Ragnuk’s life would actually hold true to his assurance.

  2. #12
    Time Traveler Slytherin
    Setting Off Fireworks in Potions Class
    iMusic17's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2010
    Where the Wild Things Are
    Name: Ellie (iLuna17\iMusic17)
    House: Slytherin!
    Title: Gone
    Ratings/Warnings: 3rd-5th years\ Violence
    Word Count: 499
    Favourite Founder: Slytherin (he’s misunderstood. . . much like Slytherin house)
    A/N: All four of my drabbles are going to build on each other. Kind of like a short story collection ☺

    Godric was hurrying through Wild Moor, carrying a heavy sack of flour to his mother. She was a baker, and was depending on Godric to get it to her in time to put it to use.

    After Godric would have returned, he would have had to do hours of hard work. Then Godric would have been able to escape into the woods. To hunt, Godric would claim, but he would meet with his friend, another wizard. To this day Godric still did not know his name.

    Today was different. As he was walking he heard a scuffle. Immediately, Godric pulled out a stick of wood. Godric had received his wand after he had first met his strange friend, after he had saved him from a wild beast in the woods. His mother did not acknowledge his powers, and he had never known his father.

    “What are you doing?” Godric asked, relieved it was his friend.

    “Please. . . I. . . I need help.” He sounded desperate.

    “What happened?” Godric asked, immediately rushing to his side.

    “My father. . . and Helga.” Then he collapsed. Godric saw there was blood on his chest. Godric was not sure if it was his or Helga’s.

    “Who is your father? I need to know your name!”

    “Slytherin. Salazar Slytherin.” Godric instinctively took a step back. The Slytherin family had a reputation, but it was not pleasant. “Hurry! Helga. . .” So Godric dropped the flour and ran. He ran through the forest, through farm fields, through another village, and finally came to the Slytherin fen. He heard shouting inside . . . and a girl’s scream. Godric knew what he had to do.

    “You stupid girl!” Slytherin screamed. A girl of about ten was lying on the floor, crying in pain. Her hands were bleeding, with pieces of a clay pot sticking out.

    “Stop!” He yelled, drawing his wand. Slytherin quickly disregarded the girl and turned towards the intruder.

    “What are ye doing here, Gryffindor? Did Salazar send you? To get that disgrace of a girl? We took ‘er in, because Salazar had brought ‘er home, but the child is useless. Not much different than Salazar, aye?”

    Slytherin drew his wand, quick as a viper, hurling a curse. Godric dodged, but to find his hat fly off in the process. He looked towards the girl. She nodded and left the hut silently.

    They exchanged curses for a while, but then Gryffindor saw a glint of light. There was a sword in his hat. But it wasn’t just any sword; it was his father’s sword. He had heard many a story about it from his mother. He lunged and managed to grasp it. Then he attacked, and poor Slytherin did not stand a chance.

    Godric ran outside to the girl. When he reached her she was still crying, but her hands were healed. She was calling for Salazar, so Godric took her to the place he had left Salazar, but he was gone.
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  3. #13
    Name: AidaLuthien
    House: Hufflepuff
    Title: The Sword
    Ratings/Warnings: 1st-2nd, none
    Word Count: 373
    Favourite Founder: Hm, I said Slytherin last week, but I think right now, I'd have to say Ravenclaw
    A/N: I wrote another version, but I'm still not completely happy with this... oh well.

    Godric Gryffindor examined his new sword. He had paid handsomely for it, and it was worth every Knut. It was absolutely beautiful. It shone like silver, would never rust, and was tough enough to tear through the toughest magical and non magical creatures’ hides. With this sword and his wand, he would be able to protect Hogwarts from any threat.

    He traced his name on the hilt, absently. He wondered why the goblin smith, Ragnuk, had agreed to put his name on the sword. Godric knew that goblins had different ideas about ownership than humans. A human believed they paid for an item and gained the use of it for their entire lives and then to their descendants or whomever paid for it next. Goblins believed that after the original owner died, ownership returned to the maker and his descendants. Buying things from goblins was more like a long rent than a purchase in the human sense, he decided.

    Still, it would be his name, Gryffindor, on this sword and if he had his way, then those of his blood and those of his House would be able to call upon the sword when they needed it. He would protect his blood, his House and Hogwarts even after he was gone. He would have to ask Rowena about the precise spells needed so that the sword would go to those who needed it, but he knew it was possible. Ragnuk would have to forgive him for not quite upholding their bargain.

    He hefted the sword. The grip felt amazing in his hands. The egg-sized rubies shone in the torchlight of the Ragnuk’s shop. It was perfectly balanced for him. He swung it experimentally.

    “Are you satisfied, Master Gryffindor?” Ragnuk asked.

    Godric smiled. “More than satisfied.” He handed over the last payment on the sword. “Many thanks.”

    Ragnuk nodded. “It was a pleasure doing business with you. I hear that Mistress Ravenclaw is working on a piece of jewelry?”

    Godric shrugged. “Rowena is immensely particular. If she can do something herself, she will. But I will be sure to mention your name to her.”

    Ragnuk nodded a bit deeper. Godric slid the sword back into the sheath and Apparated to the gates of Hogwarts.

  4. #14
    Fourth Year Gryffindor
    Arguing With The Sorting Hat
    iwannabeanauror's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2011
    Name: Caroline/iwannabeanauror
    House: Gryffindor
    Ratings/Warnings: 3-5 years, mild violence and I'm not sure if thiss needs a warning, but there is a brief kiss.
    Word Count: 325
    Favourite Founder: Rowena Ravenclaw
    A/N: I hope it's okay that I have other founders in here, too. Oh, yeah, I am a Gryffinpuff shipper.

    Godric gasped as he was thrown up against the cold stone wall; the duel with Salazar wasn't going well. Godric felt that his impulsiveness that caused him to be in this situation. If he hadn't accused Salazar of keeping secrets from other founders- But no! That had to be done; they had to be able to trust each other...

    Then, Godric felt his wand fly out of his hand, heard Salazar's shout, and then everything went dark and silent.

    A few hours later, Godric awoke to find Helga Hufflepuff standing over him. She had her 'worried face' on; a slight wrinkle between her eyebrows and pursed lips. Godric could always tell what mood she was in from just observing her for so long. Her soft hazel eyes met his grey, and she sighed with relief.

    "You're awake!" she said with a slight smile.

    Godric nodded. "Where am I?" he asked.

    Helga gave a faint laugh. "You don't recognize this place? You and your students are almost always here."

    Looking around, Godric recognized where he was. He then returned Helga's smile. "We aren't that accident prone."

    Helga smirked. "Hogwarts medical centre, home of the Gryffindors," she joked. Then, their eyes met again, and Helga looked away. "I've been really worried. Why did you have to go and put yourself in danger like that?"

    Godric tried to regain eye contact. "I wanted to protect you," he began. "Ever since the day I first met you, I've loved you. I've always been too afraid to admit it."

    Helga took his hand in both of her tiny ones. "I've been trying to be able to make the same confession." She then seemed to remember her responsibility of helping him recover from the fight. Godric felt her hands gently pushing him back into a lying position. The last thing he remembered before falling asleep was Helga tenderly kissing his cheek, and whispering, "I'll be here when you awaken."
    Last edited by iwannabeanauror; 10-19-2011 at 10:48 PM.

  5. #15
    Seventh Year Hufflepuff
    minnabird's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2009
    Name: Minna
    House: Hufflepuff
    Title: Salazar's Request
    Ratings/Warnings: profanity/reference to someone being born on the wrong side of the blanket
    Word Count: 485
    Favourite Founder: Helga, I think, but I like them alll
    A/N: This is lateee but the thread is still open so posting mwahaha. Also, this drabble didn't want to come out properly. Crap writing ahoy!

    It had been some months since Godric had made his way back to the Fens, and the magical folk who lived there under Cuthbert’s protection were gasping for news of the outside world. It was hours after the evening meal before could excuse himself politely.

    Salazar found him walking along the island’s edge. “Have they wrung you dry?” he asked.

    Godric laughed. “I don’t mind. Sometimes I think carrying news is all that keeps me fed when I’m away from home.”

    “Are you here long?” Salazar said abrubtly.

    Godric shrugged. “It’s getting on towards winter, so I suppose I ought to make my way back to Osric’s hall before long.”

    “Or you could winter here.”

    Godric raised his eyebrows. “Cuthbert has enough trouble feeding his own people. He’s happy enough to feed and house me for a few days in exchange for word from Osric and the others, but I’d rather not find out exactly how far that welcome stretches.”

    Silence fell, and Godric watched Salazar’s face. There was almost certainly another motive behind Salazar’s wanting Godric to winter here; he avoided obvious signs of affection unless they were necessary, even when talking to Godric, his closest friend.

    “Why do you want me to stay?” Godric finally asked.

    Salazar seemed to be trying to think of how to voice whatever it was. Godric wanted to shake Salazar. Why couldn’t the man just speak his mind for once, instead of dancing around it? Even after three years of friendship, Salazar was still so cautious; always choosing his words carefully, weighing the risks before speaking.

    “Just spit it out,” he said.

    “I want you to teach me how to read,” Salazar said.

    Godric frowned. “I don’t know if I’m the best teacher for you,” he said. “I mean to say, I can read, but I’ve never taught, and I’m not very good with words.” Salazar didn’t speak, so Godric went on. “You can come with me to Osric’s though; Osric teaches all the time, he’ll be a much better teacher than I would.”

    “I don’t want Osric to teach me, I want you,” growled Salazar. “I haven’t had the opportunity to be properly educated, no one educates a bastard son, but I’m clever and better than most at spellwork and I’m respected for that here. A stranger won’t understand that. You will.”

    Godric looked at the man standing before him, and couldn’t help but give in. A little discomfort and difficulty were nothing when weighed against helping a friend. And he knew that Salazar was right. Salazar was prideful – too much so for his own good – and touchy about the respect he had earned since coming here. Asking Osric to teach him his letters along with the children would chafe him to the bone.

    “I’ll do it,” Godric said. “But you really must come to Osric’s, Salazar. I’m not putting any extra burden on Cuthbert this winter.”
    Last edited by minnabird; 10-20-2011 at 01:27 AM.

  6. #16
    Russia Snow

    WEEKLY CHALLENGE. The Founders- Week 3. RESULTS

    I Welcoooome all of you to Hogwarts!

    Closing date: Thursday 27th October 10pm BST

    "You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago - the precise date is uncertain - by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution."
    -- Professor Binns (CS)
    Hello, there! Welcome to The Three Broomsticks Founders Challenge, WEEK 3!

    As a twist on our regular weekly challenges, this barmaid has decided that it would be fun to have four weekly challenges spread over October all based around the Founders of Hogwarts.

    The prompts for these challenge are pretty simple really, each week you will be given the name of a founder and based around that you must create a drabble of between 300-500 words.

    Your prompt this week is:

    300-500 words
    MUST be set in the Founder Era.

    Form for your drabbles:
    PHP Code:
    B]Word Count:[/B]
    B]Favourite Founder:[/B]
    There will be SEVEN points for participation if you complete all four drabbles.
    15, 10 and 5 points will be awarded each week for first, second and third place respectively.

    Please direct any questions to the Question Corner thread =)


    ~Madam Russia and Madam Carole xxxxx

  7. #17
    Time Traveler Slytherin
    Setting Off Fireworks in Potions Class
    iMusic17's Avatar
    Join Date
    Nov 2010
    Where the Wild Things Are
    Name: Ellie (iLuna17\ Please see that little box on the left)
    House: The awesomeness house (Slytherin)
    Title: Composure
    Ratings/Warnings: 3rd- 5th years for blood-stained Salazar
    Word Count: 500
    Favourite Founder: Still good ole’ Salazar (is that an oxymoron?)
    A/N: Picks up from where Gryffindor drabble left off.

    Lady Rowena had been on a mission to find other magical beings. Her father wanted to educate them in the art of magic, as everything the Ravenclaw family stood for was about knowledge. It was quite early, but she wanted to have a head start so she could please her father. He had told her at least three wizards resided near Wild Moor, a small village on the outskirts of her father’s jurisdiction. So Rowena had expected to find farmers and peddlers, not a boy of about her age bleeding on the ground. He looked her in the eyes.

    “Helga. . . Godric. . . No! Help them!” Then his eyes closed once more. Rowena immediately drew her wand. She cast a few healing charms, closing the wounds efficiently. She just hoped she had arrived in time, as the skinny boy had lost so much blood already. . .

    Rowena knew what she needed to do. She grabbed the boy’s wrist and disapparated. She landed right where she wanted to; her father’s chambers.

    “Rowena, what are you doing, child?” He asked hurriedly, then saw the blood stains. Rowena kept her composure.

    “I was searching for wizards when I found him bleeding on the cobblestone. I couldn’t just let the boy die. . .” Her father nodded briskly. She brushed her long, dark hair out of her face and watched her father feed the boy various potions from his stores. After he was done he turned to Rowena.

    “You did well, child. You kept your wit about you in an intense situation. You are a true Ravenclaw.” Rowena could have danced with joy, but she just straightened her elaborate dress. She sat by the boy and waited, as her father went back to his work.

    Slowly, the boy started to awake. When he finally came to, he looked straight into Rowena’s eyes.

    “You’re a witch. I’m a wizard.” She nodded then smiled. It hadn’t been a waste after all. Then his face turned dark and he started to hit himself in the head. “No! No! No! I just left her. . both of them. I left them to face my father.” He continued looking furious with himself.

    “Who?” Rowena asked calmly, secretly hoping she had found all three wizards.

    “Godric and Helga. Both like us. Godric saved me many a time, but Helga . . . she’s only ten years of age!” Rowena calmly stood up and walked over to his bed.

    “I’ll go get them for you. Where might I find them?” She asked, her fašade never dropping; her face never showing any of the eagerness that lay beyond.

    “They should be in Wild Moor. . . if Godric succeeded. If not. . . you can find their bodies in the the fen.” He laughed bitterly, before a thought struck him. “Say. . . “ He seemed to be pondering Rowena’s name.

    “Rowena.” She stated.

    “Thank you, Rowena. Where might I be?”

    “In the Glens. Hogwarts Castle to be exact.”
    Last edited by iMusic17; 10-25-2011 at 01:37 PM.
    my page
    Beautiful avvie by Nadia (magestic_ginny), and banner by TM_Wandstick.

    No matter what anyone tells you, words and ideas can change the world.
    (The Dead Poets Society)


  8. #18
    Name: secret_hermoine
    House: Hufflepuff
    Title: Teacher by nature
    Ratings/Warnings: 1st-2nd years, none
    Word Count: 457
    Favourite Founder: Rowena Ravenclaw

    “Good afternoon, boys and girls!”

    “Good afternoon, Professor!” the First Years chorused back to her.

    “I am Professor Ravenclaw, and this is Hufflepuff First Year Transfiguration. If you are not a Hufflepuff or not a First Year, please find the class that you are supposed to be in at this time. Thank you.

    Transfiguration is one of the most difficult branches of magic, but it is essential to have at least a basic knowledge of the subject. Eventually you will learn such techniques as conjuring furniture and transforming animals into stones, but for now we will start simple. Does everyone have a match on their desk?”

    A general murmur of “yes” came back to her.

    “Good. Now please, take your wands and practice this motion.” Grasping her wand firmly in her own hand, she demonstrated, saying, “Circle and jab. Now your turn.”

    “Circle and jab,” filled the air as students around the room repeated her words and her motion.

    “Again, circle and jab.”

    “Circle and jab.”

    “Good job. Now the incantation. Wands down everyone. “Acusetam Mutare.”

    “Acusetam Mutare.”

    “Remember to draw out the 'e' sound at the end of Mutare. Acusetam Mutare.”

    “Acusetam Mutare.”

    “Now, combine the wand motion and the incantation, and remember not to jab your wand at anything but the match. Begin.”

    She watched as the young students attempted the spell. Walking among them, observing their progress and making corrections here and there, she knew that this was what she was born to do. She realized this every year with the new group of First Year students, but each time it was as amazing as the last.

    The world that wizards had built up over the centuries was one that was noble, cunning, and kind all at the same time, but ultimately based in knowledge. That was why she knew that she needed to be a teacher. To be able to teach a wide segment of the British Wizarding youth. She also knew that she couldn't to it alone. So she had spoken to her three closest friends to put it together with her. The years spent in research were some of the best years of her life. The ability to trace down pieces of history and research little-known herbs and know that it would help her on her goal was amazing. But sharing it with the next generation was the best, most pure joy.

    “Try making your circle a little bit bigger, Miss Afferton, and you should be able to perform it.”

    “Acusetam Mutare.” The girlish voice made the spell seem almost like a lullaby.

    “Good job! We have a needle! Ten points to Hufflepuff!”

  9. #19
    Name: AidaLuthien
    House: Hufflepuff
    Title: New Project
    Ratings/Warnings: 1st-2nd, none
    Word Count: 397
    Favourite Founder: I think Slytherin this week
    A/N: I like the ending of this.

    Rowena Ravenclaw sketched idly. Hogwarts had come together very nicely, over the past several years. They had students, they had a system of classes, they even had colors and symbols. She added an eagle in flight to her page. She frowned at the page. It looked somewhat incomplete so she added Helga’s badger, Salazar’s snake and Godric’s lion.

    She smiled to herself. That was much better. She brushed her dark hair out of her face. It still could use something. She snapped her fingers. Rowena had forgotten to put in the school motto. In elegant, curving script she wrote, “Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus.” She formed the words silently, as she guided her stylus across the page.

    Still, Rowena got bored when she did not have new challenges. Teaching the students and caring for her House always provided some new difficulties, but they were ordinary struggles.

    She needed a new project. Something Rowena could work on for a long time and enjoy herself doing. Starting Hogwarts, designing a curriculum, recruiting students, setting up a system to find Muggle born students as they were born, all of that was good use of her desire to learn and to know but she needed more. Salazar would tease her and say that her ambition was unbecoming someone who claimed to prize intelligence and chose those students to mentor personally, but she couldn’t help it.

    Rowena hungered to know and to learn. She compulsively collected books, did experiments, wrote new books and, before Hogwarts, traveled and met with other witches and wizards. She had donated her entire library to Hogwarts, and her books still formed the bulk of the current library collection. Indeed, she was still in charge of purchasing new books for the library.

    Finally, she hit upon it. She, Rowena Ravenclaw, would design and create something to enhance her intelligence. Something beautiful but whose worth would be more than the metal, than the work that went into creating it. Something that would truly embody her personal motto: “Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure.”

    “Momma... will you read me a story?” Rowena turned to see her five year old daughter, Helena, standing in the doorway, dressed in night clothes.

    “Not tonight, sweetie. Momma has an idea that she needs to work on.” Rowena turned back to her desk, before she could see her daughter’s disappointed pout.

    “Ok... good night, Momma...”

  10. #20
    Name: Joy
    House: Ravenclaw
    Title: A Daughter's Wisdom
    Ratings/Warnings: 3rd-5th years (Character Death, briefly stated)
    Word Count: 500 exactly!
    Favourite Founder: Ravenclaw... Though, I am currently having a blast getting into Slytherin's head for next week's drabble!
    A/N: I figured I would build on my stories of the founder's items. Even though I wasn't able to get the Hufflepuff one up in time, I'm probably going to end up keeping to this little theme!


    Rowena Ravenclaw despised her mother’s tiara.

    The twisted piece of metalwork was never far away from her mother. Usually, it sat atop a tangled mess of black hair. The two of them were outcasts because of it. Nobody wore a tiara unless they were of higher nobility, and nobility would never wear one as worn and ugly as that.

    Secretly, Rowena wondered what the tiara had to do with her father. The mystery surrounding him was about as solid as that of her mother’s affliction with the thing.

    “I will never have the wisdom of my little Rowena,” her mother said when asked about it. “So I have to wear my crown.”

    Those words never made sense to an intellectual like Rowena. A crown couldn't give knowledge. She was smart enough to see the failure of logic, but her mother would never give in.

    Even when the cough came, the crown stayed under a blanket with her mother. Rowena became her caregiver, waiting patiently for the illness to pass.

    It never did.

    The man came to take Rowena away just a few hours after the haunting silence filled the house. He appeared at the door, as if out of thin air.

    “Don’t be afraid,” he said softly to the frightened girl. “I knew your father. He was a great wizard. You will be a great witch.”

    The man, soon known to her as Ivor, took her away from the sleepy village by the shore and introduced her into a world of, quite literally, magic. The world was soon hers for the taking.

    “Your mother was not the same after your father was murdered,” Ivor once stated, explaining her father’s persecution as a wizard. “She moved on, gave up a magical life. I always kept an eye on you, though. Any blood of your father’s is of good blood.”

    No truer words could have been stated – she was a great witch.
    Years later, on the eve on Ivor’s death, Rowena received a package by owl. Wrapped beneath the layers of parchment was her mother’s tiara, as old and twisted as she had left it.

    I do not have much time left. I took this to remember your father, the craftsman who made this. It was a gift for your mother. It is yours now.

    Rowena sat back in her chair, her heart sinking as any long-time loathing towards the object faded. This tiara was a symbol of love that never got to be – a tale of two stolen lives.

    Carefully, she took out her wand and began stripping the metal, polishing and shining until the wings took shape for the first time in decades. She took stones from her jewelry, carefully attaching them to her prize.

    An image was coming into focus.

    “I’ll give you wisdom, Mother,” she whispered.

    It may take her years to get it just right, but it would happen. Her mother’s tiara would never again be the sign of an outcast.

    It would be a treasure.

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