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Thread: April challenge ~ we are proud to present ~

  1. #11
    First Year Hufflepuff
    In the Cupboard Under the Stairs
    Free_Elf's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jun 2011
    Location
    Lurkerville
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    17
    Name: Free_Elf/Bec
    House: Hufflepuff
    Chosen Character: Luna Lovegood
    Ratings/Warnings: 1st-2nd/none
    Word Count: 460
    A/N:



    The album hadn’t been moved from its place on the shelf in years, but it had never been forgotten. Its spine had faded to an indeterminate brownish colour, but no dust was ever permitted to settle upon it. All in all, it was perfectly harmless – just a photo album. Still, every time she saw it, Luna felt a small shiver run down her spine and she always made sure to dust it as fast as she could so that she could move on to happier books.

    Luna never looked in the album. At first, because it made her sad and then because it made her angry, until, now, it made her scared. It was somewhat silly to be frightened of the album, or rather, what it held. There were so many things in the world she should be more scared of but Luna had never seen the sense in feeling things just because people thought she should. After all, it wasn’t that she was unafraid of Voldemort and Death Eaters and a Hogwarts without Dumbledore. She was scared of them, but right now the album scared her more.

    There was only so much a girl like Luna could do about Voldemort and Death Eaters and a Hogwarts without Dumbledore, about all the frightening things in the world. But there was something she could do about the album, something she could do to remove this one frightening thing.

    Taking a deep breath, Luna squeezed her eyes shut and touched the album’s spine with one trembling finger.

    “Like Harry,” she whispered, and pulled the album down from the shelf. She sat comfortable on the floor and rested it in her lap.

    The weight of the album pulled all her fears crashing down upon her. What if the photos weren’t familiar? If they showed a stranger? If she couldn’t make them fit with her memories? Her memories were so bright, like paintings, but memories lied, sometimes. The album – the photographs – wouldn’t lie.

    There was nothing she would like more than to shove the album back on the shelf. She didn’t want to know. Didn’t need to know. After all, she would be waiting for her; Luna didn’t need the album to see her again. Luna laughed a little. People would think it strange, a Ravenclaw not wanting to know something. They didn’t understand the terrifying power of knowing things. Luna sighed. She was avoiding having to open the album.

    If she raised her head, she could just see the corner of her bedroom door. Her friends were there. Harry and Neville and Ron and Ginny and Hermione. They would open the album. They could do it.
    She could do it. The cover of the album creaked as it moved.

    “Hello, mum,” Luna whispered.
    Last edited by Equinox Chick; 04-26-2012 at 05:12 PM.

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  2. #12
    Fourth Year Hufflepuff
    Arguing With The Sorting Hat
    Eleanor Lupin's Avatar
    Join Date
    May 2011
    Location
    Canada
    Posts
    130
    Name: Nora/Eleanor Lupin
    House: Hufflepuff
    Chosen Character: Bellatrix Black/Lestrange
    Ratings/Warnings: 1st-2nd/Character Death
    Word Count: 468 (Or so says my word processor - every word count I try seems to be different.)
    A/N: I've written three drabbles trying to get to one that I deem 'good enough' - I hope this works.


    Why do my hands shake?

    They’re just words, just a spell. I don’t even know her name, why can’t I do it?

    I’ve been so ready, so desperate to join his army. I should be able to perform some of the simplest of the their tasks, to kill a young Mudblood who’s in our way. She’s weak - no weapons, no way to fight. Easy. Like shooting fish in a barrel.

    “Let Black do it.” One of them had said when we saw the girl. He pushed me forward.

    I don’t know why I’ve feared this so much, but I have. Ending a life - it’s just one life. Not a big deal, in the scheme of things. But does she have a family who would mourn her? Would her friends call for my blood? What about her love, her husband, if he made it alive, would he question whether life was even worth living without her? To us, she’s a thing. An obstacle. But to them, she’s probably a piece of their life.

    Destroying that - it scares me.

    But I can’t afford to think like that.

    The girl cowers against the wall now, bits of red hair clinging to her pale, sweaty face. She only looks about twenty - I can’t be more than a year or so her junior. Though her husband is the one we’re after, the girl is in the way, and so she has to die.

    She doesn’t speak, doesn't even move, but the plea is written in her eyes. I can barely breathe, I can’t move my eyes away from her. Will I be able to live with myself if I back out? Will I be able to live with myself either way?

    I’m broken from my trance by Rodolphus’s hand lightly touching my back. “You have to mean it. Just empty your mind, and it’s easy. She’s just something in your way, nothing more.” His lips tickle my ear as he speaks.

    I take one last look into the girl’s eyes. She’s still pressed against the wall, shaking.

    Coward.

    But not me.

    Avada Kedavra.” I almost whisper the words, but I mean it, mean to kill, and it’s enough.

    The girl’s eyes go blank, and she slumps to the ground.

    And I feel it - it all disappears. I’m empty, my emotions being replaced with a fire, a burst of raw adrenaline that comes with newfound strength. Strength you never knew you had.

    And I love it. I know I can do anything now.

    When I face the man in the next room, the one who we were really after, it’s easy. Rodolphus disarms him, and then I just say the words, and he’s out of our way. We can do anything. The rush of power - it’s intoxicating.

    I have no fear.
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  3. #13
    Sixth Year Hufflepuff
    You Need Some Driving Lessons, Ron
    Weasley Mom's Avatar
    Join Date
    Sep 2009
    Location
    USA
    Posts
    486
    Name: WeasleyMom
    House: Hufflepuff
    Chosen Character: Neville
    Ratings/Warnings: 3-5th
    Word Count: 498
    A/N: Snape aside, I think Neville's greatest fear is that, when push comes to shove, he will be found wanting, that his courage will fail. Thanks to Natalie for beta reading this.





    “Many people have died for what they believe…
    the real courage is living and suffering for what you believe.”
    ~ Christopher Paolini



    “Neville,” said a soothing female voice. “Don’t try to move yet, okay?”

    His eyes fluttered open to reveal a distressed-looking Susan Bones hovering over him, dropping what felt like liquid fire into the wounds on his face.

    “I know it hurts, but this will help.”

    He closed his eyes again. The last thing he remembered was Carrow’s wand slicing a short “v” in the air, followed by the sensation of his face slicing open. Then he'd collapsed.

    A quick glance around the room told him he was lying on the floor by the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room. “How’d you get in here?” he asked Susan, who was propping him up with cushions from the couch.

    “We snuck her in,” said Seamus, taking a break from pacing.

    Neville saw Lavender curled into an armchair, her face red from crying, and Parvati sitting on the edge of the couch wearing an unreadable expression.

    Seamus continued. “She’s as good as a healer, and Carrow forbid us to take you to the hospital wing.”

    “He kicked you in the head, Neville,” Susan said quietly. “Apparently, then you passed out and--”

    “Seamus went bloody mad,” said Parvati.

    “Did not!”

    Parvati ignored him. “But Carrow just laughed and walked out. Lavender helped the first year back to Hufflepuff and got Susan while we brought you here.”

    “I’m surprised the Fat Lady let you in,” Neville told Susan.

    “She saw you, Neville. She was sobbing when I arrived—I didn’t even need the password.”

    For a long moment, the only sound was the crackling fire.

    “Maybe you should have just done it.”

    Everyone turned to Parvati, whose eyes were widening in defense. “You wouldn’t have hurt him much. With Carrow…” She trailed off, cringing at the memory.

    “I’ll never Crucio anyone.”

    Seamus crouched down next to Neville. “She’s right, though. Would have been easier on the kid.”

    Neville could still see the boy’s face, how he’d braced himself for the curse. Even now, Neville burned with the shame of his own hesitation, of that split second when his fear screamed at him to just do what he’d been told. Thankfully, he had been able to stand up to them, to defend the boy and bear whatever came in retribution for his defiance.

    He looked around at his friends. “It was worse for him today, but when he sees me tomorrow, he’ll know I don’t belong to them, that he can trust me.”

    Parvati joined them on the floor. “You could've been killed. If he’d kicked a little harder--”

    “A little to the right,” Susan added.

    Neville glanced at Lavender, who still hadn’t spoken, then let his eyes blur until she changed into his mum, sitting in bed with sweet wrappers crunching in her hands.

    “There are worse things than dying. You’ll see,” he said quietly. “I’m not backing down.”
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  4. #14
    Third Year Hufflepuff
    Bumper Cars in Gringotts
    acaciacarter's Avatar
    Join Date
    Oct 2011
    Location
    Seattle
    Posts
    78
    Name: Acacia Carter
    House: Hufflepuff
    Chosen Character: Neville Longbottom
    Ratings/Warnings: 1st-2nd/none
    Word Count: 464
    A/N: Inspired by the notion that, though Snape was Neville's greatest fear (or, more likely, his inadequacies brought to public ridicule), he still dragged himself into that classroom twice a week for five years. Thanks to Lily for the last-minute beta.


    The Potions corridor was not dark, dank, or clammy, or at least not any darker, danker, or clammier than any of the other windowless corridors in the castle. Still, Neville’s mind helpfully offered echoing dripping sounds and the distant rattle of chains appropriate to a dungeon. He stepped into the exact centre of the flagstone next to the wall - the one with the corner gouged away - and leaned against the cold stones with the fire of the torch sputtering in its sconce just above him and to the right. The ritual normally calmed him: his stone, his spot on the wall, the same way it had been for four years. The Slytherins ignored him there and the other Gryffindors usually didn’t even notice him.

    Today, however, no mere ritual was going to do much to quell the pounding of his heart. Closer to the door of the classroom, he could hear Harry, Ron, and Hermione musing bitterly about what difficult potion Snape would set them today, after two months of being on holiday. Neville’s stomach gave a sour kick at the mere mention of Snape’s name.

    Maybe no one would notice if he sank into the shadows until they all went into the dungeon, and he could run away. Back to the dormitory, or maybe the hospital wing - he could say he had an upset stomach and needed a lie-down.

    Coward, he chided himself, but he very nearly did run away when the creaking of the classroom door announced the top of the hour and the beginning of the lesson. Swallowing hard, Neville joined the queue of students filing into the classroom, his heart beating a dizzying staccato against his ribs.

    He was here. He’d got this far, and getting this far was the hardest part.

    And suddenly, in the way that only Professor Snape could, he was standing in front of the silent classroom. Neville held his breath as Snape began to speak to them all about the importance of their OWLs. He was convinced that his blood had been replaced with ice water the instant Snape had begun his address.

    “I expect you to scrape an ‘Acceptable’ in your OWL, or suffer my... displeasure.”*

    Snape locked eyes with Neville as he sneered these last few words. Neville froze in Snape’s gaze, too terrified to do anything but gulp. He was trapped. He could not tear his eyes away from Snape’s, whose lip curled nearly imperceptibly before returning his scrutiny to the rest of the classroom as he continued his speech.

    It was over. First contact of the year had been accomplished, and Neville was still alive. He wiped the cold sweat from the back of his neck and decided to consider this a win.

    *OOTP Ch 12 JK Rowling

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  5. #15
    Wizengamot Hufflepuff
    Kill the Spare
    Equinox Chick's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jun 2008
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    Week 2 - THE MINI GAUNTLET ROSMERTA STYLE - RESULTS IN

    This is being set early because your barmaid is like a bunny today and hopping off to visit another warren for some Easter fare. Week 1 will be closed when I return, or at 8pm, depending which one is later.


    Word Beads


    Below is a list of five words. Each must be included in your drabble. Please highlight the words. You may pluralise the words, but you can't break them up (so no blue bells). You also cannot change Hunt into shunt, or anything similar.

    Hunt
    Egg
    Shining
    Bluebell
    Pink


    If this is your second week, then please remember that you MUST use the same character that you picked in week 1, or your drabble will not count. You do not have to enter every week, however.

    List of characters and recap of rules can be found here.



    Use this form when you enter:

    PHP Code:
    [B]Name:[/B]
    [
    B]House:[/B]
    [
    B]Chosen Character:[/B]
    [
    B]Ratings/Warnings:[/B]
    [
    B]Word Count:[/B]
    [
    B]A/N:[/B

    All drabbles should be between 300-500 words and need to be compliant with MNFF guidelines. You are encouraged to use a beta.We judge not only on SPaG but characterisation and plot. We also reserve the right to not award points if the drabbles received are not of sufficient quality.
    Do not let the fate of this fair lady befall you. Click here.


    This thread will be closed at 8pm (BST) on Sunday 15th April when the next prompt will be posted.

    Bonne chance, mes amies.



    Mesdames Carole and Russia
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  6. #16
    Fifth Year Gryffindor
    I See Dead People... In Mirrors
    crazy717's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jan 2011
    Location
    Walking in my fantasies
    Posts
    204
    Name: crazy717/Abi
    House: Gryffindor!
    Chosen Character: Lily Evans/Potter
    Ratings/Warnings: 1st-2nd years; character death
    Word Count: 428
    A/N: Thank you to Ellie for beta-ing this quickly and doing an amazing job, especially at putting up with my many grammar mistakes! *indicates quotes from PoA.

    "Lily, take Harry and go! It’s him! Go! Run! I’ll hold him off ------"*

    How had this happened? How had he found us? Lily thought as she ran us the stairs, her son held tightly in her arms. She leant against the door for a second, trying to control her breathing before moving across the room to place Harry in his cot.

    How could Peter have done this to us? We trusted him! We made him secret keeper and he betrayed us; he betrayed his best friend. Our son was going to die because of that rat. Lily thought bitterly. Sirius was going to be blamed; everyone's going to think he's the traitor. How did we not see that it was him; that he was the spy?

    The door blast open and Lily slowly turned to face him, reluctant to take her eyes away from her son. She stood in front of the cot, shielding her son from view. As she looked at the eerily pale face of the man who had killed her husband just moments before she found herself pleading for Harry's life.

    “Not Harry, please no don't kill him! Take me, kill me instead-”*

    “This is my last warning-”*

    “Not Harry! Please... have mercy... Not Harry! Please- I'll do anything...”* This is the end, Lily thought to herself. This monster had already killed my husband, he won't kill my son too. Despite his repeated warnings, she refused to step aside. Dumbledore would make sure he's safe. And the Order would never let anything happen to him; they'd keep him hidden from Voldemort... wouldn't they?

    Don't be so stupid! Lily scolded herself. Of course the Order would never let anything happen to him. He'd never be alone, and one day, when he was old enough, he'd know exactly why his parents died. Until then, well, until then he would be happy and safe, that's what mattered. Even if it is without James and I.

    Once again Lily found herself biting back tears as she thought about her son's future. She would never see the day he got his Hogwarts letter, the first time he played Quidditch. She would never see him buy his first wand or wave him off on the Hogwarts Express. But he'd be safe, she reminded herself. She didn't want to think about how unlikely it was that this monster would listen to her pleas and spare her son.

    Stay safe, Harry, and remember how much mummy loves you. She thought before the streak of green hurtled towards her.

    ~Abi~

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  7. #17
    Seventh Year Hufflepuff
    Protecting Scabbers from Crookshanks
    hestiajones's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jun 2009
    Location
    The Fellowship of Non-Literary
    Posts
    985
    Name: hestiajones
    House: HUFFLEPUFF!
    Chosen Character: Albus Dumbledore
    Ratings/Warnings: 1st-2nd year; None
    Word Count: 462 on MSW
    A/N: Harry's conversation with Dumbledore has been quoted from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.



    “What do you see in the Mirror, Professor?” Harry asked him.

    *

    “What would you like for your birthday?”

    She didn’t reply for some time; her attention was fully occupied by the soup she was slurping rather audibly. Albus coughed. “Ariana?”

    Her eyes were bright when she looked up.

    “We will have a birthday party,” he said. Even to himself, his voice didn’t sound comforting. He tried to smile.

    “Soup,” she said, “too hot.”

    “Ah.” He raised his wand. For a few moments, they watched the wand-tip siphon off the steam rising from the bowl. The ticking of the grandfather clock on the wall was too loud, Albus thought.

    “Socks,” mumbled Ariana.

    “Hmm?”

    “I want socks.”

    “It’s summer.”

    “Thick ones. Made of wool.”

    Once more, he began to object, but she’d already returned to her soup. He waited for her to finish without speaking any further, his hands unconsciously balled into fists, thumbs rubbing up and down against the index fingers. His breathing became easier only when Aberforth bustled into the kitchen, smelling of grass, dirt and goat.

    He hated himself for that, even though no amount of resentment could stop him from leaving the tiny room as fast as he could. Gellert was waiting in the study, where the air wasn’t so thick. Indeed, all thoughts of socks and birthday cake dissipated the moment he saw his friend.

    *

    The castle was quiet as it was past midnight. Albus was walking along the seventh corridor, and he had lost count of how many rounds he’d completed. In his hand was a personal letter sent by the Minister of Magic, a request to step in and help the Aurors track down and fight Gellert Grindelwald. He felt, rather than saw or heard, the door materialising on the wall behind him. Wand ready, he stepped inside. There was only one object in the vast, high room: a tall mirror that showed, instead of his own reflection, something that made him cry aloud before sinking to the floor.

    *

    Gellert’s gaze was as inexorable as it had been the night when he had left Godric’s Hollow. You dare betray me, he seemed to ask. But Albus had to try, no matter how much his hand was trembling, no matter how blurred his vision had become. He’d never be free; the Mirror had proved that to him.

    It was you, Gellert said. His voice was discernible even above the unending cracks and explosions. You killed her.

    And I’ll atone for it, Albus replied in his head, as he watched his final curse hit his opponent, forever.

    *

    “I?” he said to the boy. He didn’t have to look at the Mirror for confirmation before answering. “I see myself holding a pair of thick, woollen socks.”
    ]

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  8. #18
    Seventh Year Gryffindor
    First Brush With A Dementor

    Join Date
    Mar 2009
    Posts
    903
    Name: KARAAAWWW
    House: Gryffindor
    Chosen Character: Lucius Malfoy
    Ratings/Warnings: 1st/2nd, none
    Word Count: 500
    A/N: We call this just-in-time-drabbling. It's very efficient! Thanks Hannah <3



    It’s a boy. A boy. I have a son. I should be there. I should be happy. This should be the best news since Narcissa told me about her pregnancy.

    And yet I’m not in her private room in St Mungo’s maternity ward. The flowers that the elf has arranged are still sitting on the kitchen table; I was supposed to take them to her. Instead, I’m in my study, pacing in front of the fireplace, waiting for our future to be determined.

    I made the investment seven months ago; I didn’t know then. I had no idea we were going to have a son. It was too late to withdraw when she told me. All I could do was to keep hoping, to try and forge ties between the people I was investing in and people who could help them along their way. But that was more to keep myself busy, to give me the illusion that I was doing something to control my fate. The truth was, and still is, that it is all out of my hands. I invested too much, too unsafely, and now it is not only my life that I am risking.

    I am a father. I have a wife, a son, a family. I have a son. It is expected of me that I take care of them, that I offer them a good life, and now I might not be able to. Narcissa doesn’t know how precarious the situation is. I didn’t dare bother her with it. It all will be determined tonight. What if she returns home and I have to tell her that I had to cancel the celebration we had planned to honour the birth of our son? What if our budget doesn’t allow for decorations and waiters and expensive dressrobes anymore? Our son – my heir – will need a nurse, a teacher before he attends Hogwarts, a social instructor–

    There’s a cracking sound, and I spin around to face the fireplace, but the fire is still burning orange and yellow. A log has broken. No news yet. I’m having their report as well as the Evening Prophet sent in via Floo; I cannot wait for an owl to arrive. I keep my eyes fixed on the dancing flames for another minute, then I sink down in the armchair. The clock on the mantlepiece tells me that it’s ten to seven. It’s not late, but it’s also not too early for the messages to arrive.

    And then I blink, and the flames flash green, and an envelope falls out, followed by the newspaper. My heart thumps against my chest as I pick both up, the envelope closed, the newspaper folded. Whatever is written on these pages determines the future of my family: whether my son will receive the education he deserves and my wife will lead the life I have promised her, or whether I have failed as a father and husband.

    My fingers tremble as I unfold the parchment.
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  9. #19
    Savannah Hen Slytherin
    Sirius Black Entered Gryffindor Tower
    coolh5000's Avatar
    Join Date
    Aug 2007
    Location
    Wonderful England!
    Posts
    1,235
    Name: Bob
    House: Slytherin
    Chosen Character: Neville Longbottom
    Ratings/Warnings: 1st-2nd/none
    Word Count: 498
    A/N: This was some serious last minute drabbling. Huge thanks to Kara for betaing


    As he had expected, there was a definite sense of foreboding in the air when Neville crossed the barrier to Platform nine and three quarters. His gran kept closer contact with members of the Order of the Phoenix than he had realised and through them the Longbottoms understood the full implications of the recent changes across the wizarding world, and that the time would come soon when they had to fight for their survival.

    A week earlier, Neville had been on his regular visit to St Mungo’s to see his parents. It was becoming more difficult to gain visiting access and he was certain that if Voldemort ever took full control, they would not survive for long.

    The visit before returning to school was always the most difficult as he knew that he would not see them again for months and that any feeble progress he thought had been made during the summer holidays would be lost, once again relegating him to a random stranger that Frank and Alice took no more than a passing interest in.

    His gran had been at the side of the room, pretending to read while Neville had his time alone with them. He knew it was both dangerous and pointless to say too much in front of them but he found it comforting to talk to them.

    “They say it might be worse than before,” he said idly, as his mum stared vacantly at him.

    “I want to do something to make a difference this time.” Neville was surprised to find tears welling up in his eyes. It had been years since he had cried when visiting the hospital but for some reason he just could not shake the feeling that this might be the last time he would see them.

    “I don’t want to let you down, Mum,” he said, the words catching in his throat. “I want to prove to them that they’re wrong, that I am a Longbottom and that I’m just as strong as you. I don’t want what happened to you to have been in vain; I don’t want to just sit back and let him win.”

    There was a pause and Alice reached out and took Neville’s hand in her own. He knew it didn’t mean anything, but still his heart leapt. He wished she understood how much he wanted her to be proud of him, how terrified he was of failing them both.

    “I will fight for you,” he said at last and stood to leave. He caught his gran looking at him, and even though she tried to hide it, he was sure she was smiling.

    The smile had given him strength and made him sure that his decision to fight was the right one.

    Now, a week later, sitting on the train as it rolled out of London, feeling the nervous tension all around him, Neville’s determination did not waver even for a minute. This year, he decided, he would make a difference.
    Last edited by coolh5000; 04-08-2012 at 07:58 PM.

  10. #20
    Wizengamot Hufflepuff
    Kill the Spare
    Equinox Chick's Avatar
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    Thank youuuuu


    Week two is .....

    .....


    ~Madame Carolleeeee
    Last edited by Equinox Chick; 04-08-2012 at 08:25 PM.
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