Page 2 of 3 FirstFirst 123 LastLast
Results 11 to 20 of 26

Thread: The Weekly Drabble - Changes - Results Posted!

  1. #11
    Author Name: Sneaky_Rhae
    Title: Dark Change
    Word length: 353
    Warnings: dark, I've been in a dark mood

    Dealing with change was never something that Ron Weasley had been good at. Really, if you thought about it, people who felt that they had something to prove were never good at dealing with change, and Ron had always felt he had something to prove. He was the youngest of six brothers, with really no distinguishing characteristic to speak of. Bill was the cool one, Charlie was athletic, Percy was brainy, and the twins were brilliant jokesters. Even after Ron had gone to Hogwarts he was often in his best friend Harry Potter’s shadow. He knew that Harry was important and he didn’t mind often being in his shadow, but every once in a while it grated on his nerves.

    After the war was over, Ron felt he had even more to prove. He had Hermione by his side and every day he felt that he had to prove to her that he was good enough for her. She’d told him many times that he shouldn’t think that way, but Ron couldn’t help that. Every day he would try to do the same things that he had done all of his life. Things that he couldn’t do for so long because of the wounds he had suffered during the last battle. Things that he still couldn’t do because he no longer had the strength to do them. Try as he might, even something as simple as standing to take a shower were impossible, all because he had no legs left to stand on.

    How many times had Hermione had to come to his rescue because he had tried to do something himself? How long was it going to be before he let go of the stubbornness and asked for help? How many more times would Ron have to try to prove to himself that he was still a man and fail miserably? How many times would Hermione tell him that he was still all the man she would ever need?

    Ron Weasley had never been good about dealing with change, and he was sure that this particular change would end up killing him.

  2. #12
    Author Name: Periwinkle
    Title: Bitter Ends
    Word length: 325
    Warnings: None

    Lucius was pacing the corridors, his face set into a hard line and his eyes unreadable. The Malfoy Mansion was quiet, as usual, but today a terrible, eerie silence hung heavily over the halls. Lucius clenched his jaw, staring out the window. How stupid could he be? Didn't he know that if he failed to follow Voldemort's orders, he would be killed? How foolish had he been? He battered himself mentally, unable to stand still.
    An owl flew to the window, startling Lucius out of his reverie and causing him to flinch. Nervously, he opened the window and took the piece of parchment that was attached to the owl's leg.

    Lucius - It is over. Flee.

    Crumpling the piece of paper in his hand, he took his cloak, swept it on and promptly Dissaparated.

    He had feared this moment. When he joined the Death Eaters years ago, he knew that it wasn't going to be easy. He had contemplated what he'd do once the Dark Lord banished him. Where would he go? He couldn't trust any of the Death Eaters...they'd turn him in on the spot. So he huddled in the dark forest, hidden in the rotten trunk of an oak tree, shivering against the bitter wind. His woolen cloak was little comfort in the soggy and windy environment. Earthen smells pervaded his nostrils as he tried to make himself comfortable. The branches below his body itched and scratched, and his body was covered in random scratches from the thorns he had encountered. The birds chirping outside did little to heighten his mood.

    Lucius closed his eyes as a few droplets of water fell upon his now-dirty hair. He groaned, and hastily shut himself up, lest anyone hear him. He hadn't realized that it could come to this. Never in his life had Lucius anticipated that he'd be hidden in the middle of sprawling woods, fleeing Voldemort.

    Where was he to find food? Lucius groaned again, head in his hands.

  3. #13
    Author Name: Gonz
    House: Hufflepuff
    Title: The Cost of Change
    Word length: 233
    Warnings: None

    The first thing Percy noticed was how quiet it was. There was no sound of people running up and down the stairs. No sound of Mum making breakfast in the kitchen. No sound of the Ghoul banging on the pipes. No sound of explosions from Fred and George’s room. No sound of Mum screaming at one of them. No sound of Dad tinkering with some Muggle apparatus.

    Percy had lived at the Burrow all of his life. He had constantly been surrounded by people. Now, he lived alone in an empty apartment in London. Things were changing.

    As Percy moved into his kitchen he suddenly realized he had never cooked before in his life. As he chewed his burnt eggs he realized that he was going have to learn, and fast.

    Grabbing his briefcase Percy smiled as he prepared to leave. No longer did he have his family around, holding him back. He was free to pursue his own dreams. He was freed from his family’s taint, and lucky enough to be Junior Assistant to the Minister of Magic! Yes, change was good.

    He had freedom, a good job, and a respectable reputation, but in all that change he was missing something. No matter how much Percy threw himself into his work he couldn’t fill the emptiness he now felt inside him.

    He no longer had a family.

    He no longer had love.

  4. #14
    Sixth Year Slytherin
    Snape's Not Evil?
    Magical Maeve's Avatar
    Join Date
    May 2006
    North Yorkshire
    I'm going to extend the deadline on this until Friday.

    I know some of you have only just arrived and it's only fair you have a few extra days.
    I'm not lost to you. You'll always be able to find me in your words. That's where I'll live on..

    The Book Thief

  5. #15
    Author Name: Blossomlily
    House: Hufflepuff
    Title: A Horrendous Change
    Word length: 406
    Warnings: None

    Some people say your most terrifying experiences visit you in your dreams over and over again and scare you out of night’s peaceful sleep. Many who have experienced this do not feel at ease speaking thus, but it is a generally accepted truth. But for Remus Lupin, a boy of eleven, this goes a bit further. These horrendous scenes sometimes appear to him even during daylight, and he goes into a trance of sorts, provoking his friends to repeatedly put forth the question of what had gone wrong with him.

    They are always a confused haze of events. A rainy night – a secret trip to the woods – wet leaves glinting in the misty white light of the full moon – blurred shapes looming in the dark – a twig breaking as though it had been stepped on - a sudden ominous fear – a furry, foul smelling shape leaping out of the shadows and pinning him down to the grassy ground - a sharp surge of immense pain shooting through his left leg. And then, he hears a scream – a scream which echoes unpleasantly in his ears until he recognizes it as his own just after he regains consciousness a little later. He remembers only slightly the assorted angry yells, frightened calls, snarls, sticks chasing away the beast and broken sobs. Then, as someone carried him away in the direction of the house, he recalls clearly hearing something that he is sure he will never forget – a distant, blood-curdling howl. At this point the dream breaks off, leaving him looking around dazedly at the class as though he had just woken up. He shivers slightly and looks at his friends’ intent, curious faces through barely veiled confusion and fear.

    His friends ask him over and over again to speak, but he merely shakes his head and says he is bored.

    Remus knows that he cannot escape his predicament – a tiresome as well as dangerous one. He tries hard to, but he knows he cannot evade his friends’ questions forever. And there is always the looming fear that he might harm his few friends or that someone would find out what he was.

    And he knows – he knows quite well that whatever happened that night had happened for good and he has to live with it or die.

    That terrible night changed his life – the night of October the sixteenth, two years previously, when Remus John Lupin became a werewolf.
    P.S. Thank you so much for extending the deadline

  6. #16
    Author Name: whatapotter
    House: Hufflepuff
    Title: Petunia
    Word length: 499 (Oh, yes! That one took some editing!)
    Warnings: None

    I can hardly remember those early days. They are from a foreign, alien time, and long lost to me now; a distant memory, or perhaps, wishful dream...

    Two little girls; one redhead, the other brunette, shrieking as they tumbled to the ground in a furious game of ‘Tag’… laughing gaily as they pushed each other on the swings… teasing softly over a family meal…

    The metallic clang of a letter box.

    In that instance I felt my world shift.

    It turned out she was special; she was a witch, and she was different to me. My mother was ecstatic; my father was proud. I was ordinary. I was nothing like her. I saw my mother comparing us, and I felt a flicker of something ignite deep within me.

    She promised faithfully she’d write. She did at first; she told us about castles, spells, potions and broomsticks. She talked about mermaids and centaurs and ghosts and every fantastic thing that had ever graced my wildest imaginations and my most fervent dreams. Quite simply, she lived the life I read about in fairytales. I tried to be happy for her; I tried to be proud, I really did. That spark of jealously deep down inside of me, however, sputtered and growled and leaped a little larger.

    She became engaged a year after she left that school. According to my parents, James Potter was everything that Vernon wasn’t; talented, brilliant, handsome and charismatic. My fire burned brighter by the second.

    She had not only been my sister, but my best friend. Now, however, I hated her. I hated how she lived a life I could only dream about. I hated how she was special, and I hated that my parents knew I wasn’t. Mostly though, I hated how she didn’t realise I hated her, for she continued loving me until she died. Perhaps I hated her for the understanding, or worse, pity, she gave my hatred. Whatever the reason, I know one fact with heart-wrenching certainty; by the time she died, I loathed my sister.

    Looking back, I know exactly what to blame. That letter. Everything changed the moment that letter popped through our letterbox; a time-bomb, waiting to rip two little girls apart. That letter stole my mother’s eyes and my father’s pride. It stole a sister’s devotion, and a best friend’s trust.

    Worse, however, was what I have done to myself. I let that letter destroy me; I added it to my burning pyre of jealously and watched the flames erupt. That inferno demanded vengeance for all the times I had been ignored, and Vernon shunned. Yes, it demanded vengeance, and, My Lord, did I exact it.

    For when the tiny, innocent, form of Lily’s son arrived on my front porch, those flames snatched him greedily, wrapped their sinister tendrils around his trusting form, and locked him in a cupboard.

    That letter changed me into a monster… and the worst part of this entire tale is that I let it.

    (Am I right in remembering you can submit more than one drabble for these challenges? I hope so - if not, please just discount this next one!)

    Author Name: whatapotter
    House: Hufflepuff
    Title: Ten Tiny Fingers
    Word length: 499
    Warnings: None

    The double doors of St. Mungo’s Maternity Ward burst open with the force of a small hurricane as a man with a wild mop of red-hair hurtled through. Careening up the corridor, he dodged a food cart, jumped over a collapsed push-chair and startled a nurse so much that she shrieked and dropped the metal tray she had been carrying. Ignoring her irritated yells that chased along in his wake, he arrived gasping at the receptionist’s desk and sagged, boneless, against the edge.

    The receptionist gave him a look that said, all too clearly, that she saw this kind of absurd behaviour on a daily basis. “Visiting?”

    “M-molly Wea-easley,” the man managed to get out, and was pointed brusquely in the right direction

    Entering, he forcefully suppressed an amused grin, as he found his wife sitting up in bed, a bundle of wool balanced on her ballooning stomach, knitting baby clothes.

    “I see I’m not too late then?”

    She glanced up at him, a beaming smile spreading over her features. “Arthur! Oh, you had me worried when they told me you’d been detained at work!” She patted her engorged belly. “I told him that under no circumstances was he to even try arriving before you were here, though.”

    Arthur placed his hand over hers and chuckled. “I see you’ve got him well disciplined already.” He kissed his wife’s cheek, and teased. “Am I going to have to take up cooking, if you’re going to be the disciplinarian around the house now?”

    His wife gave him a scandalised look but groaned in sudden pain before she had a chance to speak. Arthur felt a ripple spread across the stomach underneath his palm, and an answering tremor of excitement and anticipation spread through his entire body. This was it then; it was time. He was actually going to be a father!

    A few hours later, after the shock of so much screaming and a grip that pulverised every bone in his hand had passed, Arthur heard a sound that made his heart skip several beats; a newly born baby crying.

    He felt his knees go weak. Cradling his wife close as she fed their new born son, he looked down in awe at the tiny life he and Molly had produced. He was perfection itself; he had ten tiny fingers, and ten miniature little toes, and a nose which was an exact replica of his father’s. Arthur felt like the luckiest man alive; he could have danced in the middle of Diagon Alley, bellowing his news to the world, but somehow didn’t think he’d ever have the strength to leave this tiny little bundle.

    The baby curled all of his tiny fingers around Arthur’s thumb, and the red-haired man was once more stunned, speechless with joy at such a tiny action.

    Molly whispered quietly, “What do you think we should call him?”

    He looked down at his son and knew the answer. “Bill. I think we should call him Bill.”

  7. #17
    Author: JaneA
    House: Hufflepuff
    Title: A New Year With Fawkes
    Word length: 410
    Warnings: Big HBP Spoiler

    Minerva McGonagall looked around the school she had come to love. Realizing that, for the first time, she wouldn’t have Albus Dumbledore, the person she’d always counted on, alongside her to help and guide her, she went back to her state of depression.

    In front of the students and parents, she had tried to put on a brave front. She had tried to make them believe that everything would be just fine, that they would go on, just as if Dumbledore’s death had never happened. But inside, she knew that they couldn’t go on. It was impossible. The leadership that man had had couldn’t, and wouldn’t, be replaced by anyone. The progress that had been made in the past years was a waste. It didn’t account for anything, now that he was gone.

    But she would try. She really would. She had received, that morning, an owl from the Minister saying that Hogwarts, as a safe place for students, would be open, at least for the next school year, and that she, Minerva McGonagall, would be its new Headmistress. She should have been happy that at least Hogwarts wasn’t closing; that her home of fifty years would still be there for her. Instead, she only thought about how Dumbledore wouldn’t be here, and how immense that change was.

    She couldn’t bring herself to put her things in the Headmaster’s office. She knew it was something the students would notice, so she moved on to do it. Upon seeing the past Headmaster’s office, she realized that none of the things had been moved. The office was exactly the same as when Dumbledore had left. Everything was in its proper place, and the new Headmistress felt guilty having to remove it. Newly discouraged, she walked around, remembering.

    Her eyes stopped on the window, when she started seeing a large red bird flying towards it. She instinctively gazed towards the phoenix’s cage. It’s not possible, she thought to herself. She jumped a bit when she heard a slight noise made in the glass. As her eyes readjusted to so much red, she walked forward, forcing the window lock to open. In flew Fawkes, looking dignified in his scarlet feathers. As he settled himself in his cage, he looked at McGonagall, as if he had only been waiting for her this whole time. The transfiguration professor locked eyes with the magnificent bird, and smiled to herself.

    A part of Dumbledore had indeed been left.

  8. #18
    Name: mugglegurl
    Title: News
    House: Hufflepuff
    Word Count: 279
    Warnings: None

    Luna paced up and down the halls of her cozy house. Her father wanted to see her, but what for? She hadn’t tried to explain her beliefs to any neighbors lately, so her father shouldn’t have received to many complaints.

    She snapped her fingers. Her father found that the gib dib sneek Fly did exist. Those pesky pests people to behave worse than usual by sneaking into their heads and attaching themselves to the brain. Once in there, they could control the thought of anyone. For reasons unknown to Luna and her father, the fly seemed to be more attracted to World Leaders than anyone else. The Lovegoods assumed this was because of the fly’s apparent distaste for the new casual Friday law a president in a foreign country passed.

    Yes, Luna thought, that’s it.

    “Luna,” her father called. She took this as the cue to enter his large study. Mr. Lovegood had his daughter’s same dirty blonde hair, but not the same dreamy eyes. His eyes looked more like he was always awake and very alert.

    Her father waved a letter in front of her. “Luna, you got into Hogwarts.”

    Luna squealed happily and hugged her father. They were worried that she wouldn’t get in because of her lack of magical gifts. She had been hoping to make it in since she was a little girl, and had been bugging the post owl for several weeks, but had to stop once the owl started biting her.

    Mr. Lovegood patted his daughter’s head. “I’m so proud of you,” he exclaimed happily. Luna silently agreed. Her father may not have found that the fly existed, but this was good enough.
    I invented the fly, just to let you know. It's not fanon at all.

  9. #19
    Author Name: PansyParkinson (BrierRose17)
    House: Hufflepuff
    Title: Venus
    Word length: 484
    Warnings: None

    I feel I need to explain this just a bit. The change is within James. He's changed from a boy, to an older boy who's in love.



    The sorting hat’s voice drawled as he finished his song. James stood off to the side of the crowd, unimpressed. He had already heard about all this from his father. He knew about the sorting hat, the charmed ceiling, the giant squid, the horseless carraiges. It was all old news.

    James figured he wasn’t going to be called for at least another ten minutes. He resolved to look around the hall. It was exactly as his father told him it would be.

    The thin, yet robust woman with her hair in a bun called the first name. “Black, Sirius.” The loud voice echoed against the stone walls as a young boy with hair as dark as his name walked towards the sorting hat. James’ father had told him about the Blacks, too.

    James watched nonchalantly, leaning against one of the large, travertine spires; his arms crossed coolly against his chest.

    “Gryffindor!” the hat shouted a few moments later. The red table erupted in applause. The young boy’s face fell for a moment but stretched into a proud smile as he practically skipped to the red table. James’ eyebrows met in confusion.

    Another name was called. And another. And another.

    James grew impatient. He casually sauntered around the perimeter of the group and towards the front of the crowd as the old woman called yet another name.

    “Evans, Lily.” A tall, thin girl with long, brilliant, ginger hair and even brighter green eyes, roughly shoved James aside and confidently strode towards the stool and hat. An odd smile crept upon her face as she sat upon the stool and the hat was placed atop her head. James adjusted his glasses that had almost been knocked from his face and looked on to the girl who was responsible. His chin hung open as he thought her skin resembled the porcelain of the dolls his mother kept from her girlhood. Lily’s eyes gleamed in the warm light of the room as the hat vigorously called out, “Gryffindor!” She giggled and jumped off of the wooden stool. The Gryffindor table once again erupted in applause and encouraging shouts. James looked on in amazement. He remembered a painting he found in one of his father’s many books. A woman floated across the ocean on a large seashell. Her long, wavy, red hair was tossed about her face from the sea breeze. She held a tress over her ‘naughty parts.’ James almost giggled, as he did the first time he stumbled across the painting. It was Venus.


    James felt an odd sensation in the pit of his stomach. Lily noticed the boy staring at her. She shrugged her shoulders and mouthed, ‘Sorry.’ James’ face blushed as he quickly nodded acceptance. She smiled girlishly and James’ face turned a deeper shade of pink. Turning back towards the front of the hall, he smiled. He decided he would marry her.

  10. #20
    Author: dory_the_fishie
    House: Hufflepuff!
    Title: Stand Up Taller (shamelessly stolen from an O.A.R. song lyric)
    Word Length: 312
    Warnings: none

    He tries to remember that this is not the end of everything, that there is life after Hogwarts, and that they have their whole lives ahead of them. He tries not to fear for the future, not to miss the past, and not to let that tear fall. But he is afraid and he is nostalgic and the tear does fall.

    It is over, he thinks. It is over and we have to grow up now.

    He forgets plans for the future because he doesn’t want to believe the future has come, now, doesn’t want to believe that this is the past. He is eighteen, only eighteen, and eighteen-year-olds shouldn’t be allowed to have pasts. Pasts are for people with futures.

    He doesn’t have a future.

    They do.

    They are all walking out of this place with places to go, people to become, homes to build. But this is the only place he wants to be, this is the person he wants to be, this is his home. This is his life – four boys and thousands of pranks and full moons – this is what he lives for.

    He doesn’t want to grow up.

    They are.

    They are all moving into that other life, that new life, that life of responsibility and adults and real-world problems. But this is his world. This – this castle and this lake and this forest – this is what he lives for.

    This is my life, he yells. I can’t change.

    You must, they insist.

    James claps a hand on his shoulder, Remus tells him it is going to be okay, Peter cracks a joke that lets them all smile. They turn to walk away, they turn to face their new lives, and he turns with them. Hogwarts is his past and real-life is his future. It’s time, he knows, and this is his life, now.

    (Stand up taller.)

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts