firefly_quill (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} firefly_quill) wrote,@ 2005-11-23 21:32:00 |
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Contest fic dump
Finally, time to breathe. I'm a little frustrated because I seem to have lost a plot bunny that I remembered liking, but surely it will come back to me later. Until then, to prove that I do not exclusively write Snupin (frightening, no?), here's a random collection of fics that I've written for various challenges.
Title: Untitled
Genre: Humour
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Word count: Exactly 100
Challenge: Drabble Prompt: "Unbreakable bonds". *giggle*
“I believe you two are stuck.”
“Stuck?!”
“You heard me, Mr. Potter.”
“But…there’s a Quidditch game tomorrow!”
“You should have thought of that before you brewed that adhesive potion, Mr. Malfoy.”
“Isn’t there any way to…”
“Mr. Malfoy was rather creative in the making of the potion. None of my usual remedies are working. We have to wait for Professor Snape to create an antidote from scratch.”
“How long will that take?”
“It depends, Mr. Potter, on when he is able to stop laughing. Goodnight.”
“Potter.”
”Yes, Malfoy?”
“Next time I ask for the lube, read the bloody bottle first.”
~*~
Title: Red Ambition
Genre: Gener..ic?
Pairing: None.
Rating: G
Word count: 546
Challenge: Describe the sorting of one of the villains in the series. I scrambled to finish this one, and I can't help but think it seems unpolished.
“Bellatrix Black.”
The tall, dark-haired girl stepped forward and perched herself on the stool, resolute smile on her lips. She had been waiting for this moment ever since she had found out that it was going to happen. She knew what was expected of her, what her family had decided for her.
So sad to disappoint, mum. she thought wryly to herself. But she was determined. She would be a Gryffindor.
It was all quite logical, really. Where did the best of the Slytherins go? Straight into some semi-incestuous marriage, in order to keep their blood pure and their money in the family. This was followed, most usually, by a trip to Azkaban for dabbling in the Dark Arts.
But in Gryffindor there was such potential. Laywers, aurors, magical researchers and the like. These were not the losers.
And they would accept her with open arms, of course. It was all a matter of time. She would become the Gryffindor Seeker. The Gryffindor Prefect. The Gryffindor Head Girl. All her life she would do anything and everything needed of her to further the glory of her house, of her name. And when she tired of it all, she would marry a nice Gryffindor boy and they would have nice Gryffindor children. That James Potter seemed to be of a Gryffindor quality. He would do.
Half lost in her reverie, the hat was placed on her head.
I am of Gryffindor, and my house awaits me. she thought imperiously.
“Oh really?” A sardonic voice answered.
The girl was startled.
“The hat...is talking?”
“Brilliant observation, my dear. The bravery is certainly there, and the gall. Imagine, telling the Sorting Hat how to do its job. Quite ambitious of you, don’t you think?”
“And imagine, a ratty old hat telling me where I should and should not go, where I can and cannot go. Quite absurd, don’t you think?” she countered.
“Oh, bravo. Such feist, such spirit.”
”I am aware that what you say will make my future, and I am determined that it will make my future. I have chosen my house. It will serve me well, and I will return the favour.”
“I see blood in your future, little girl. Gryffindors are so against blood.”
“But they will shed it if necessary.”
“How observant. But you would rather others shed it for you. There is a difference. This has been a lovely conversation, but it only cements in my fabric the house that is most suitable for you. Although I grow wary with the thought of placing you there, I am only able to give you an answer to what would be best for you, not the world.”
“And what is that to mean?”
“That there will be blood, my dear, that there will be blood.”
“SLYTHERIN!”
The table with the green and silver banners let out an uproarious cheer.
Bellatrix slipped off her chair and narrowed her eyes, but offered her new house mates a bright smile. Oh someone would pay.
Years later, Bellatrix sat on another stool, before a council. The words of the sorting hat still resonated loudly in her head, but she realized, wryly, that it had been correct. There had been no house better for her and what she had to do.
~*~
Title: Mary, She Might Sue!
Genre: Humour
Pairing: None.
Rating: G
Word count: 978
Challenge: Purposely inject a Mary Sue into a plot of your own device. I apologize in advance :P
Albus Dumbledore had one additional comment to make after the sorting ceremony.
“If I could draw your attention for a moment longer. As you may already know, we have begun an exchange program with the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang schools in an effort to further international relations within the wizarding world. It is at this time that I would like to warmly welcome our exchange student from the Beauxbatons school, Elendriel Delacroix.” Dumbledore nodded to the Great Hall doors before even a murmur of interest could rise from the students, and the doors flew open.
In swept a girl better suited for the French Palace of Versailles than the cold, damp halls of Hogwarts Castle. Dressed in the traditional silken light blue robes of her school, her silvery hair was swept into a carefully untidy knot. Her light blue eyes flashed with strength and understanding beyond her years, but a kind and also firm smile played on her lips. She practically glowed in the dark. The Hogwarts students gawked silently in awe.
“Miss Delacroix is the top student in her year,” Dumbledore continued, his eyes twinkling. “I think that you will all find her horribly perfect. Please extend your courtesies to her in any way possible during her stay, although I trust this will not be an issue.” The students could have sworn at this moment that he was attempting to suppress a giggle.
----------------------------------------
McGonagall began class with a courteous nod towards Elendriel and nothing further. She had never been one to dwell on things that did not specifically pertain to what she had to do, and in this hour, what she had to do was teach an Introduction to Animagic class to 7th year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws.
“Becoming an animagus is difficult, taxing work,” McGonagall said in her stern voice. “It requires mental focus and great magical ability. Reversing the effects of an animagus spell gone wrong is neither simple nor pleasant.”
Her class collectively gulped.
Elendriel raised her hand.
“Je m’excuse, Professor McGonagall, but perhaps I am in the wrong class? You see, already have the skill of transforming into my animal familiar.”
McGonagall smiled kindly. “Perhaps you misunderstood me, Elendriel, in this class, we will be transforming ourselves into such animals, not summoning a familiar.”
Elendriel gently shook her golden head. “Allow me to demonstrate?”
She waved her wand and instantly, gracefully, a blue light emanated from her body. She lowered hands to the ground, transforming into a silvery snow leopard. In another moment, she had returned to her normal form.
The class looked on in awe.
“But surely there is a more advanced course that you offer for those already familiar with their animagus form?”
Professor McGonagall ignored this question, abruptly deciding that for the rest of the duration of her class, the students would be copying by hand the introductory chapter of “Animagic: The Transformation of a Lifetime”.
----------------------------------------
“Exactly what IS she, Albus?” Minerva asked irritably. The headmaster’s cryptic responses were beginning to frustrate her.
“Why, a student from Beauxbatons, of course, one of the more prestigious and well-known wizarding schools of our time, that for some reason never fails to recruit the best looking students in the world. Oh and she might be part Veela.”
“Veela!”
“Yes I do believe so. That would explain her enchanting personality. And why she is currently giving out signed photographs of herself to all the boys in the Hufflepuff Quidditch team.”
“Well I never.”
“You never what, my dear Minerva?”
“It’s a saying.”
“I see. Well in any event, at least we don’t have to worry much about Miss Delacroix’s safety, in such dangerous times. Immortality does come in useful that way.”
“She’s IMMORTAL?”
“So I would assume, yes. She does possess the power of the Eldar, after all.”
“…She’s half elf?”
“Of course. You mean the hair didn’t give it away?”
“But…our copyright doesn’t cover that!”
“Oh dear, no time to discuss that Minerva. Itappears thatthe Dark Lord Voldemort has decided to attack Hogwarts.”
“This sounds strangely familiar.”
----------------------------------------
By the time Dumbledore and his staff had reached the gates of Hogwarts, there was already a confrontation in progress.
Elendriel glared resolutely at the Dark Lord, her light blue robes fluttering in the wind.
Voldemort looked patronizingly in return.
There were no words, only action.
“Crucio!” Voldemort attempted to gain a pre-emptive attack.
“Reflectus!” the green sparks bounced off a shield of light blue, hitting a random Death Eater instead.
Voldemort aimed another almost-fatal-but-not-yet hex towards the girl, but Elendriel dove away, rolling and landing on her feet. The Dark Lord decided to unleash his final, most deadly attack, Aveda Kedavra. Elendriel gracefully leapt over the spell, which had left Voldemort open for attack, and took this opportunity to knock Voldemort unconscious.
----------------------------------------
The feast that night was of immense proportions. Elendriel sat at the head table, beside a rather sulky Professor McGonagall, and an even sulkier Harry Potter, who felt robbed of his chance to avenge his parents.
Elendriel suddenly turned to the boy.
“Harry,” she whispered in her wispy voice. “I want to tell you why I robbed you of your chance to avenge your parents. That’s why I arranged to come to Hogwarts, I was truly touched by your story. Too long have you lived troubled by this situation. Yet had you murdered the Dark Lord, the blood on your hands would make you no better than he whom you sought to kill. But now death belongs to me. So live, Harry Potter, live!”
Harry’s eyes began to grow glassy with tears. He hugged Elendriel tightly, breaking into tears. “Thank you Elendriel…thank you!”
The rest of the Hall, upon seeing this scene, was also driven to tears, with the exception of the headmaster, who seemed quite amused, and McGonagall, who seemed rather nauseated. And Professor Snape, who was sick that day and not in attendance.
~*~
Whew. I need sleep.
Finally, time to breathe. I'm a little frustrated because I seem to have lost a plot bunny that I remembered liking, but surely it will come back to me later. Until then, to prove that I do not exclusively write Snupin (frightening, no?), here's a random collection of fics that I've written for various challenges.
Title: Untitled
Genre: Humour
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Word count: Exactly 100
Challenge: Drabble Prompt: "Unbreakable bonds". *giggle*
“I believe you two are stuck.”
“Stuck?!”
“You heard me, Mr. Potter.”
“But…there’s a Quidditch game tomorrow!”
“You should have thought of that before you brewed that adhesive potion, Mr. Malfoy.”
“Isn’t there any way to…”
“Mr. Malfoy was rather creative in the making of the potion. None of my usual remedies are working. We have to wait for Professor Snape to create an antidote from scratch.”
“How long will that take?”
“It depends, Mr. Potter, on when he is able to stop laughing. Goodnight.”
“Potter.”
”Yes, Malfoy?”
“Next time I ask for the lube, read the bloody bottle first.”
~*~
Title: Red Ambition
Genre: Gener..ic?
Pairing: None.
Rating: G
Word count: 546
Challenge: Describe the sorting of one of the villains in the series. I scrambled to finish this one, and I can't help but think it seems unpolished.
“Bellatrix Black.”
The tall, dark-haired girl stepped forward and perched herself on the stool, resolute smile on her lips. She had been waiting for this moment ever since she had found out that it was going to happen. She knew what was expected of her, what her family had decided for her.
So sad to disappoint, mum. she thought wryly to herself. But she was determined. She would be a Gryffindor.
It was all quite logical, really. Where did the best of the Slytherins go? Straight into some semi-incestuous marriage, in order to keep their blood pure and their money in the family. This was followed, most usually, by a trip to Azkaban for dabbling in the Dark Arts.
But in Gryffindor there was such potential. Laywers, aurors, magical researchers and the like. These were not the losers.
And they would accept her with open arms, of course. It was all a matter of time. She would become the Gryffindor Seeker. The Gryffindor Prefect. The Gryffindor Head Girl. All her life she would do anything and everything needed of her to further the glory of her house, of her name. And when she tired of it all, she would marry a nice Gryffindor boy and they would have nice Gryffindor children. That James Potter seemed to be of a Gryffindor quality. He would do.
Half lost in her reverie, the hat was placed on her head.
I am of Gryffindor, and my house awaits me. she thought imperiously.
“Oh really?” A sardonic voice answered.
The girl was startled.
“The hat...is talking?”
“Brilliant observation, my dear. The bravery is certainly there, and the gall. Imagine, telling the Sorting Hat how to do its job. Quite ambitious of you, don’t you think?”
“And imagine, a ratty old hat telling me where I should and should not go, where I can and cannot go. Quite absurd, don’t you think?” she countered.
“Oh, bravo. Such feist, such spirit.”
”I am aware that what you say will make my future, and I am determined that it will make my future. I have chosen my house. It will serve me well, and I will return the favour.”
“I see blood in your future, little girl. Gryffindors are so against blood.”
“But they will shed it if necessary.”
“How observant. But you would rather others shed it for you. There is a difference. This has been a lovely conversation, but it only cements in my fabric the house that is most suitable for you. Although I grow wary with the thought of placing you there, I am only able to give you an answer to what would be best for you, not the world.”
“And what is that to mean?”
“That there will be blood, my dear, that there will be blood.”
“SLYTHERIN!”
The table with the green and silver banners let out an uproarious cheer.
Bellatrix slipped off her chair and narrowed her eyes, but offered her new house mates a bright smile. Oh someone would pay.
Years later, Bellatrix sat on another stool, before a council. The words of the sorting hat still resonated loudly in her head, but she realized, wryly, that it had been correct. There had been no house better for her and what she had to do.
~*~
Title: Mary, She Might Sue!
Genre: Humour
Pairing: None.
Rating: G
Word count: 978
Challenge: Purposely inject a Mary Sue into a plot of your own device. I apologize in advance :P
Albus Dumbledore had one additional comment to make after the sorting ceremony.
“If I could draw your attention for a moment longer. As you may already know, we have begun an exchange program with the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang schools in an effort to further international relations within the wizarding world. It is at this time that I would like to warmly welcome our exchange student from the Beauxbatons school, Elendriel Delacroix.” Dumbledore nodded to the Great Hall doors before even a murmur of interest could rise from the students, and the doors flew open.
In swept a girl better suited for the French Palace of Versailles than the cold, damp halls of Hogwarts Castle. Dressed in the traditional silken light blue robes of her school, her silvery hair was swept into a carefully untidy knot. Her light blue eyes flashed with strength and understanding beyond her years, but a kind and also firm smile played on her lips. She practically glowed in the dark. The Hogwarts students gawked silently in awe.
“Miss Delacroix is the top student in her year,” Dumbledore continued, his eyes twinkling. “I think that you will all find her horribly perfect. Please extend your courtesies to her in any way possible during her stay, although I trust this will not be an issue.” The students could have sworn at this moment that he was attempting to suppress a giggle.
----------------------------------------
McGonagall began class with a courteous nod towards Elendriel and nothing further. She had never been one to dwell on things that did not specifically pertain to what she had to do, and in this hour, what she had to do was teach an Introduction to Animagic class to 7th year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws.
“Becoming an animagus is difficult, taxing work,” McGonagall said in her stern voice. “It requires mental focus and great magical ability. Reversing the effects of an animagus spell gone wrong is neither simple nor pleasant.”
Her class collectively gulped.
Elendriel raised her hand.
“Je m’excuse, Professor McGonagall, but perhaps I am in the wrong class? You see, already have the skill of transforming into my animal familiar.”
McGonagall smiled kindly. “Perhaps you misunderstood me, Elendriel, in this class, we will be transforming ourselves into such animals, not summoning a familiar.”
Elendriel gently shook her golden head. “Allow me to demonstrate?”
She waved her wand and instantly, gracefully, a blue light emanated from her body. She lowered hands to the ground, transforming into a silvery snow leopard. In another moment, she had returned to her normal form.
The class looked on in awe.
“But surely there is a more advanced course that you offer for those already familiar with their animagus form?”
Professor McGonagall ignored this question, abruptly deciding that for the rest of the duration of her class, the students would be copying by hand the introductory chapter of “Animagic: The Transformation of a Lifetime”.
----------------------------------------
“Exactly what IS she, Albus?” Minerva asked irritably. The headmaster’s cryptic responses were beginning to frustrate her.
“Why, a student from Beauxbatons, of course, one of the more prestigious and well-known wizarding schools of our time, that for some reason never fails to recruit the best looking students in the world. Oh and she might be part Veela.”
“Veela!”
“Yes I do believe so. That would explain her enchanting personality. And why she is currently giving out signed photographs of herself to all the boys in the Hufflepuff Quidditch team.”
“Well I never.”
“You never what, my dear Minerva?”
“It’s a saying.”
“I see. Well in any event, at least we don’t have to worry much about Miss Delacroix’s safety, in such dangerous times. Immortality does come in useful that way.”
“She’s IMMORTAL?”
“So I would assume, yes. She does possess the power of the Eldar, after all.”
“…She’s half elf?”
“Of course. You mean the hair didn’t give it away?”
“But…our copyright doesn’t cover that!”
“Oh dear, no time to discuss that Minerva. Itappears thatthe Dark Lord Voldemort has decided to attack Hogwarts.”
“This sounds strangely familiar.”
----------------------------------------
By the time Dumbledore and his staff had reached the gates of Hogwarts, there was already a confrontation in progress.
Elendriel glared resolutely at the Dark Lord, her light blue robes fluttering in the wind.
Voldemort looked patronizingly in return.
There were no words, only action.
“Crucio!” Voldemort attempted to gain a pre-emptive attack.
“Reflectus!” the green sparks bounced off a shield of light blue, hitting a random Death Eater instead.
Voldemort aimed another almost-fatal-but-not-yet hex towards the girl, but Elendriel dove away, rolling and landing on her feet. The Dark Lord decided to unleash his final, most deadly attack, Aveda Kedavra. Elendriel gracefully leapt over the spell, which had left Voldemort open for attack, and took this opportunity to knock Voldemort unconscious.
----------------------------------------
The feast that night was of immense proportions. Elendriel sat at the head table, beside a rather sulky Professor McGonagall, and an even sulkier Harry Potter, who felt robbed of his chance to avenge his parents.
Elendriel suddenly turned to the boy.
“Harry,” she whispered in her wispy voice. “I want to tell you why I robbed you of your chance to avenge your parents. That’s why I arranged to come to Hogwarts, I was truly touched by your story. Too long have you lived troubled by this situation. Yet had you murdered the Dark Lord, the blood on your hands would make you no better than he whom you sought to kill. But now death belongs to me. So live, Harry Potter, live!”
Harry’s eyes began to grow glassy with tears. He hugged Elendriel tightly, breaking into tears. “Thank you Elendriel…thank you!”
The rest of the Hall, upon seeing this scene, was also driven to tears, with the exception of the headmaster, who seemed quite amused, and McGonagall, who seemed rather nauseated. And Professor Snape, who was sick that day and not in attendance.
~*~
Whew. I need sleep.