A Flood of Ficlets
May. 19th, 2008 10:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
book_worm5Hunted up a few more of my ficlets to post on here. Pretty much all of them were originally posted over at the PotterFicWeekly forums.
Nov 29/07
Prompt: Neville's first real date
Squinting at the sun, Neville cast the time spell and swore. He stood hurriedly, brushing clods of earth off his robes and swiftly, but thoroughly, cleaning and storing his tools. He dashed inside and had a quick shower, hardly bothering to warm the water. He dried off, cast the tooth-cleaning charm twice—I never could get that one right—and looked through the closet for a set of dress robes. He picked one and put it on, going to stand in front of the mirror. He shifted nervously from foot to foot, picking at a loose thread and teasing the strands of his damp hair, plastered to his head.
"You look lovely, dear," the mirror assured him. "Though that could do with a press."
"Er, right." He tried the pressing charm his Gran used to use, and peered at himself again. Then he remembered the time again and yelped, tearing for the door. Good thing I'm in better shape than I used to be. All this dashing about would've killed me. He skidded to a halt in the front garden, conjured a small trowel—his one well-practiced piece of transfiguration—and went to work. Let's see...these are her favourite... Within moments, he banished the trowel and set off again.
~~~He stood there, shifting from foot to foot again, frozen with indecision. Come on, man, you're a Gryffindor! You've led armies for Merlin's sake! Neville chided himself. Well, one particular Army, he amended. He patted his hair one more time, took a deep breath, and knocked. The door opened almost immediately, and she was there. She looked...she was...he didn't have the words for what she was.
"Neville? Are you all right?"
"Oh, er, right, er..." he flushed. "Hi."
Her eyes danced with amusement, but she said nothing.
"I heard you like, erm," he swallowed. "That is, I—" He produced a small pot, overflowing with flowers. Her eyes softened.
"These are for you."
Prompt: Neville's first real date
Squinting at the sun, Neville cast the time spell and swore. He stood hurriedly, brushing clods of earth off his robes and swiftly, but thoroughly, cleaning and storing his tools. He dashed inside and had a quick shower, hardly bothering to warm the water. He dried off, cast the tooth-cleaning charm twice—I never could get that one right—and looked through the closet for a set of dress robes. He picked one and put it on, going to stand in front of the mirror. He shifted nervously from foot to foot, picking at a loose thread and teasing the strands of his damp hair, plastered to his head.
"You look lovely, dear," the mirror assured him. "Though that could do with a press."
"Er, right." He tried the pressing charm his Gran used to use, and peered at himself again. Then he remembered the time again and yelped, tearing for the door. Good thing I'm in better shape than I used to be. All this dashing about would've killed me. He skidded to a halt in the front garden, conjured a small trowel—his one well-practiced piece of transfiguration—and went to work. Let's see...these are her favourite... Within moments, he banished the trowel and set off again.
~~~
"Neville? Are you all right?"
"Oh, er, right, er..." he flushed. "Hi."
Her eyes danced with amusement, but she said nothing.
"I heard you like, erm," he swallowed. "That is, I—" He produced a small pot, overflowing with flowers. Her eyes softened.
"These are for you."
Dec 27/07
Prompt: Molly and Arthur at Christmas
It was rare to find a quiet moment, these days. Even this was hardly quiet; shrieks of childish glee were clearly audible, but at least right now they were coming from outside. Bill and Charlie had got the twins embroiled in a snowball battle, while Percy was working industriously on constructing a snow gnome, though he would squall and return fire if a snowball went astray. Ronald was murmuring constantly, but contentedly, nursing at her breast.
She felt the presence beside her even before his hand came to rest on her back. She smiled up at him, but he, wonderful man, noticed the look in her eyes.
"Why so pensive, my love?"
"Oh, just...thinking," she said, turning back to the window. "Next Christmas...it'll be our first without Bill."
"Ah," he said, nodding. "Funny to think about, our Bill off to Hogwarts. Who's to say he'll stay for Christmas, though? He may well come home." He smiled warmly, with just a hint of exasperation. "And if he does stay, you'll be run off your feet quite enough with the other five!"
"I suppose you're right," she agreed, pointing her wand and causing the pot of cocoa on the the stove to burst into steam. Sure enough, this was immediately followed by a thundering horde streaming through the door.
"Besides," she added, smiling coyly, "by then we may be back up to six even without Bill."
"Charlie, hang that up properly—no, George, you may not play with Daddy's wand." He turned back. "Sorry dear, what was that?"
She simply smiled at him, and could see the light dawn in his expression. He smiled even more broadly and held her close, causing Ron to fuss until they shifted slightly.
"You see, darling," he murmured lowly, "You'll have no cause to be lonely at all."
Prompt: Molly and Arthur at Christmas
It was rare to find a quiet moment, these days. Even this was hardly quiet; shrieks of childish glee were clearly audible, but at least right now they were coming from outside. Bill and Charlie had got the twins embroiled in a snowball battle, while Percy was working industriously on constructing a snow gnome, though he would squall and return fire if a snowball went astray. Ronald was murmuring constantly, but contentedly, nursing at her breast.
She felt the presence beside her even before his hand came to rest on her back. She smiled up at him, but he, wonderful man, noticed the look in her eyes.
"Why so pensive, my love?"
"Oh, just...thinking," she said, turning back to the window. "Next Christmas...it'll be our first without Bill."
"Ah," he said, nodding. "Funny to think about, our Bill off to Hogwarts. Who's to say he'll stay for Christmas, though? He may well come home." He smiled warmly, with just a hint of exasperation. "And if he does stay, you'll be run off your feet quite enough with the other five!"
"I suppose you're right," she agreed, pointing her wand and causing the pot of cocoa on the the stove to burst into steam. Sure enough, this was immediately followed by a thundering horde streaming through the door.
"Besides," she added, smiling coyly, "by then we may be back up to six even without Bill."
"Charlie, hang that up properly—no, George, you may not play with Daddy's wand." He turned back. "Sorry dear, what was that?"
She simply smiled at him, and could see the light dawn in his expression. He smiled even more broadly and held her close, causing Ron to fuss until they shifted slightly.
"You see, darling," he murmured lowly, "You'll have no cause to be lonely at all."
Jan 18/08
A young boy with messy black hair hair sat with his friends in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express. Suddenly, the compartment door slid sharply open, causing most of the occupants to look up. The boy ignored it.
Another boy was framed in the opening, his pale, pointed face sneering unpleasantly.
"Potter," he spat.
"Malfoy," the boy said cooly, and looked up for the first time.
Their eyes locked, emerald green warring with icy grey, neither willing to give an inch.
"I've always wanted to do that," the first boy sniggered.
"The number of times Father..." his rival gasped out.
"I know!" He grinned. Finally, he turned to his bewildered friends. "It's all right, guys," he said disarmingly, getting up and drawing the other in through the door. "C'mon, I want you to meet Scorpius--I know, horrid name, isn't it, at least I can shorten mine to Al..."
A young boy with messy black hair hair sat with his friends in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express. Suddenly, the compartment door slid sharply open, causing most of the occupants to look up. The boy ignored it.
Another boy was framed in the opening, his pale, pointed face sneering unpleasantly.
"Potter," he spat.
"Malfoy," the boy said cooly, and looked up for the first time.
Their eyes locked, emerald green warring with icy grey, neither willing to give an inch.
* * *
The blond boy was the first to crack. It wasn't much, just the twitch of a lip, but it was enough to set the other off. Soon they were both laughing uproariously."I've always wanted to do that," the first boy sniggered.
"The number of times Father..." his rival gasped out.
"I know!" He grinned. Finally, he turned to his bewildered friends. "It's all right, guys," he said disarmingly, getting up and drawing the other in through the door. "C'mon, I want you to meet Scorpius--I know, horrid name, isn't it, at least I can shorten mine to Al..."
Feb 6/08
Prompt: Rainy day
Remus Lupin looked out the window at the driving rain. It was appropriate, somehow. It matched his mood. Most people would find that strange; it was his birthday tomorrow, after all, and most boys would be suppressing excitement. Remus Lupin, however, was not your ordinary almost-eleven-year-old. The thing that ought to have made this birthday so special would not come, for him. His parents had explained. Werewolves, they told him, did not get Hogwarts letters, no matter how good and brave and smart they were. He was all that, his parents assured him, and his father had blustered that he, John Lupin, was wizard enough to teach Remus anything he should want to know—but somehow, it wasn't the same.
Remus sighed, resting his head on the sill. He distracted his mind by watching eddies and shifts in the rainfall. Just there, for instance, a small portion seemed almost independent of the rest—in fact it was coming closer. Finally recognizing it, Remus opened the window for the bedraggled owl, and was turning to fetch his father when it hooted sharply at him. Shrugging, he took the letter, and turned it over, then stared in shock at the seal. Shakily, he broke it, and slid out the parchment inside.
Remus Lupin's mood no longer matched the weather. His face split into the broadest grin it had seen in years, as he read one word—'accepted'.
Prompt: Rainy day
Remus Lupin looked out the window at the driving rain. It was appropriate, somehow. It matched his mood. Most people would find that strange; it was his birthday tomorrow, after all, and most boys would be suppressing excitement. Remus Lupin, however, was not your ordinary almost-eleven-year-old. The thing that ought to have made this birthday so special would not come, for him. His parents had explained. Werewolves, they told him, did not get Hogwarts letters, no matter how good and brave and smart they were. He was all that, his parents assured him, and his father had blustered that he, John Lupin, was wizard enough to teach Remus anything he should want to know—but somehow, it wasn't the same.
Remus sighed, resting his head on the sill. He distracted his mind by watching eddies and shifts in the rainfall. Just there, for instance, a small portion seemed almost independent of the rest—in fact it was coming closer. Finally recognizing it, Remus opened the window for the bedraggled owl, and was turning to fetch his father when it hooted sharply at him. Shrugging, he took the letter, and turned it over, then stared in shock at the seal. Shakily, he broke it, and slid out the parchment inside.
Remus Lupin's mood no longer matched the weather. His face split into the broadest grin it had seen in years, as he read one word—'accepted'.
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no subject
Date: 2008-05-20 05:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-05-20 08:50 pm (UTC)I like.