Voting! Round 3 Challenge 6
Here we go, folks! The drabbles are in and it's time to vote!
Remember:
Do NOT vote for yourself. If you're a contestant, you MUST vote. Please enter the number of your most favorite and least favorite drabble in the poll. Please use the number not the title! Please keep in mind the prompt when voting: Footprints in the Snow
Winners will be announced on Friday!
1.
Title: The Sorrow Rock
Words: 334
Rating: All
Warnings: Ginny ranting
Author's Notes: I loved the prompt. Bunnies galore.
Ginny crunched through the snow, a single line of footsteps leading past Dervish and Banges in Hogsmeade toward the stile where Harry had once met Sirius, disguised as a dog, an Animagus. A place where she came when she felt the need to yell at the world and have no one hear her. Her rage that Sirius had died, her worry over the whole Department of Mysteries, of the truth of it unknown to any but Harry and company.
“Why can't I be included? I'm in the DA! Why did we have to get stuck with that absolute toad, Umbridge? Why does everything I do to attract Harry ... end up in overturned sugar bowls?” she shouted desperately into the wind. She moved beyond the stile, intending to sit at her favourite sorrow rock. Her feet slipped on a icy rock that was one of many suddenly exposed , covered in sheet ice, no longer buried beneath the snow. She fell, and on a strange angle. Suddenly Draco Malfoy was under her, breaking her fall, holding her up. She hadn't heard him approach in her introspection. Draco? Catch her? And break her fall? Two sets of prints and a mass of packed snow showed where they both had landed.
Ginny stood slowly, sore, scarlet-faced with humiliation and embarrassment. Draco must have felt the same way, for his pale pointed face was faintly pink. His cloak was slightly ripped on one side. His embarrassment was all in showing weakness toward a Gryffindor. Draco pulled out his wand. Ginny drew hers with rapid reflexes. She was on the point of Incarcerous! when Draco aimed his wand at the ground. Ginny's wand lowered slightly.
“The prudent Slytherin always knows when to cover their tracks,” he said, erasing his prints in the snow. “Now no one will believe anything but an angel broke your fall.” Draco turned and left, erasing his prints behind him, and Ginny sat on her sorrow rock, a sheepish grin on her face.
2.
Title: Footprints In The Snow
Words: 280
Rating: Absolutely G
Warnings: None
Author’s Notes: -
People - some of them cut you till it won’t stop bleeding. You can’t sew the gashes they leave, those dreaded moments when you wish your memory would fail you; that you would forget. But then there are people who come in your life like a typhoon, screeching, blowing in your face till you choke with the freshness they bring. However, they fade away; they’re gone; just like footprints in the snow.
-
“Wait! Where exactly do you think you’re going?”
She doesn’t run. She just hurries. Her pace quickens. I follow as fast as I can, but my ankle still hurts - I must have sprained it. “Ginny!” Nothing. “GINNY!” No reply. “Ginevra Weasley!”
“I beg your pardon?” she stops, and turns. I can see that she’s angry.
“Wait! I can’t really -“
“You can’t, Malfoy? I’ll be damned, you can’t! You never could: admit, understand, and accept… you never could! What am I supposed to do now, wait till you figure it out?”
“But -“this hurts “-I did.” It’s not the ankle. Not anymore.
-
She’s gone. She didn’t stop. Her silhouette vanished from sight, glowing in the reddish twilight; everything is smoldered in a blur. I stop, and I sit down on the ground - it’s hard, and it’s cold, and it’s far from her already; already I miss her. Ginny. My typhoon; her words like blades, prints on my living memory.
“I’ll stay away, Dr-Malfoy.” Her lower lip was trembling when she told me. “You’ll never see him, her, that much I can promise.”
-
It’s been a while. It’s almost Christmas. I find myself wondering - again - if one of their children is mine.
She kept her promise.
-
It snows.
3.
Title: Wasteland
Words: 400
Rating: PG
Warnings: EWE
If there was one thing that Ginny had never doubted it was that Draco would be remarkably talented when it came to kissing. She had heard stories. Tales of fainting spells had filtered through the Ministry's interdepartmental grapevine with unceasing predictability. To her, the idea of being kissed by him had been intriguing but ultimately unachievable. A day at work was not complete without an infamous Weasley-Malfoy conflict breaking out. Ginny's entire reason for currently manning a tiny base camp within the Arctic Circle was that Draco had provoked her into hexing him into six days sick leave.
There was tension, though. There had always been tension.
Unfortunately, since at that moment she was beginning to doubt whether she would ever feel her lips again, the full effect was lost on her.
With a small sound, she pulled away from him, pressing her hands firmly against the lapels of his heavy winter robes. The wind whistled around them in fits and starts, battering the pair. Snow was beginning to fall again, filling Draco's tracks. The temperature had dropped rapidly. Before long the small, exposed base camp where she had been living for the last week would be subject to an icy barrage.
"Tent," she mouthed, gesturing towards the orange mass.
"What are you doing here?" she gasped, zipping the flap after them. The interior of the tent was small. This close to the pole there was too much wild magic to risk an expanding spell. "You're crazy."
Draco shed his gloves, and reached for her again. Ginny shivered as cold hands burrowed under her jacket. "I don't think I'll ever be warm again."
"That's what you get for Portkeying into the middle of a frozen wasteland. Draco, stop!" She pushed him away, trying to ignore the desire to do the opposite. "What has gotten into you?"
He sat back on his heels. "I suppose you deserve an explanation."
"Just a bit," she agreed.
"It's your fault."
"How?"
"You're here-at Christmas."
"Did you land on your head? The ice is fairly hard."
Draco rolled his eyes. "This was my project, but you're here, at Christmas, and I've decided to take a chance." He leaned closer. "You, me, a frozen wasteland, and no one around for a few hundred miles-what better place to see what happens?"
Ginny swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. "To clarify..."
The feel of his lips cut her off.
4.
Title: A Clean Slate
Words: 399
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angst, though not much.
"I like walking on clear untouched snow," she says with a small smile. "Something so wonderful about being the first one to leave your footprints.”
He nods without looking at her.
“Next snowstorm comes and it’s a blank slate again. It’s as if those footsteps were never even there,” she continues, giving him a meaningful look.
He stops and looks down. His eyes are blank and she knows it will take a lot to get through to him today. “They’ve still been left,” he says. “They may be covered, may be forgotten, but if they existed once they exist, and nothing can change that, Ginny.” He looks up at her. “I’ve walked through a lot of snowfields and I’ve got a lot of clean slates in my life, and I’ve ruined all of them. They may all have forgotten, or dismissed it, but I have not and will never.” He reaches out to take her hand. “I’m sorry.”
She wraps her fingers around his hand and then moves it until his palm is resting on her stomach. He pulls it back but she holds on tight. He raises his eyebrows at her questioningly and she holds his gaze. She’s thought about this for days, yet she hasn’t been able to find the words. She wants him to figure it out from her look, and he does.
He yanks his hand away and steps back.
“How long?” he breathes out.
“A few weeks.”
“Ginny… I can’t. I can’t be a father. I don’t know how to be, and he or she wouldn’t want me. I’m a -”
She steps close to him and presses their lips together. “Shh,” she whispers against his lips.
Gently, she kisses him again and then turns him around to look behind them. They stare at their footprints in the otherwise flawless field.
“Look at them, Draco,” she says and snakes her fingers through his. “Clean slate, just you and I, no one else.”
“But -”
“I know your past, Draco. I know your footprints are still under there and always will be, but it’s a clean slate for the two of us right now.”
He stares at the field for a long time.
“He’s going to be in Slytherin, you know,” he mumbles and Ginny throws her head back and laughs.
He squeezes her fingers tighter. Already, the snow is covering the footprints they’ve made.
Poll dg ldws challenge 6
Remember:
Winners will be announced on Friday!
1.
Title: The Sorrow Rock
Words: 334
Rating: All
Warnings: Ginny ranting
Author's Notes: I loved the prompt. Bunnies galore.
Ginny crunched through the snow, a single line of footsteps leading past Dervish and Banges in Hogsmeade toward the stile where Harry had once met Sirius, disguised as a dog, an Animagus. A place where she came when she felt the need to yell at the world and have no one hear her. Her rage that Sirius had died, her worry over the whole Department of Mysteries, of the truth of it unknown to any but Harry and company.
“Why can't I be included? I'm in the DA! Why did we have to get stuck with that absolute toad, Umbridge? Why does everything I do to attract Harry ... end up in overturned sugar bowls?” she shouted desperately into the wind. She moved beyond the stile, intending to sit at her favourite sorrow rock. Her feet slipped on a icy rock that was one of many suddenly exposed , covered in sheet ice, no longer buried beneath the snow. She fell, and on a strange angle. Suddenly Draco Malfoy was under her, breaking her fall, holding her up. She hadn't heard him approach in her introspection. Draco? Catch her? And break her fall? Two sets of prints and a mass of packed snow showed where they both had landed.
Ginny stood slowly, sore, scarlet-faced with humiliation and embarrassment. Draco must have felt the same way, for his pale pointed face was faintly pink. His cloak was slightly ripped on one side. His embarrassment was all in showing weakness toward a Gryffindor. Draco pulled out his wand. Ginny drew hers with rapid reflexes. She was on the point of Incarcerous! when Draco aimed his wand at the ground. Ginny's wand lowered slightly.
“The prudent Slytherin always knows when to cover their tracks,” he said, erasing his prints in the snow. “Now no one will believe anything but an angel broke your fall.” Draco turned and left, erasing his prints behind him, and Ginny sat on her sorrow rock, a sheepish grin on her face.
2.
Title: Footprints In The Snow
Words: 280
Rating: Absolutely G
Warnings: None
Author’s Notes: -
People - some of them cut you till it won’t stop bleeding. You can’t sew the gashes they leave, those dreaded moments when you wish your memory would fail you; that you would forget. But then there are people who come in your life like a typhoon, screeching, blowing in your face till you choke with the freshness they bring. However, they fade away; they’re gone; just like footprints in the snow.
-
“Wait! Where exactly do you think you’re going?”
She doesn’t run. She just hurries. Her pace quickens. I follow as fast as I can, but my ankle still hurts - I must have sprained it. “Ginny!” Nothing. “GINNY!” No reply. “Ginevra Weasley!”
“I beg your pardon?” she stops, and turns. I can see that she’s angry.
“Wait! I can’t really -“
“You can’t, Malfoy? I’ll be damned, you can’t! You never could: admit, understand, and accept… you never could! What am I supposed to do now, wait till you figure it out?”
“But -“this hurts “-I did.” It’s not the ankle. Not anymore.
-
She’s gone. She didn’t stop. Her silhouette vanished from sight, glowing in the reddish twilight; everything is smoldered in a blur. I stop, and I sit down on the ground - it’s hard, and it’s cold, and it’s far from her already; already I miss her. Ginny. My typhoon; her words like blades, prints on my living memory.
“I’ll stay away, Dr-Malfoy.” Her lower lip was trembling when she told me. “You’ll never see him, her, that much I can promise.”
-
It’s been a while. It’s almost Christmas. I find myself wondering - again - if one of their children is mine.
She kept her promise.
-
It snows.
3.
Title: Wasteland
Words: 400
Rating: PG
Warnings: EWE
If there was one thing that Ginny had never doubted it was that Draco would be remarkably talented when it came to kissing. She had heard stories. Tales of fainting spells had filtered through the Ministry's interdepartmental grapevine with unceasing predictability. To her, the idea of being kissed by him had been intriguing but ultimately unachievable. A day at work was not complete without an infamous Weasley-Malfoy conflict breaking out. Ginny's entire reason for currently manning a tiny base camp within the Arctic Circle was that Draco had provoked her into hexing him into six days sick leave.
There was tension, though. There had always been tension.
Unfortunately, since at that moment she was beginning to doubt whether she would ever feel her lips again, the full effect was lost on her.
With a small sound, she pulled away from him, pressing her hands firmly against the lapels of his heavy winter robes. The wind whistled around them in fits and starts, battering the pair. Snow was beginning to fall again, filling Draco's tracks. The temperature had dropped rapidly. Before long the small, exposed base camp where she had been living for the last week would be subject to an icy barrage.
"Tent," she mouthed, gesturing towards the orange mass.
"What are you doing here?" she gasped, zipping the flap after them. The interior of the tent was small. This close to the pole there was too much wild magic to risk an expanding spell. "You're crazy."
Draco shed his gloves, and reached for her again. Ginny shivered as cold hands burrowed under her jacket. "I don't think I'll ever be warm again."
"That's what you get for Portkeying into the middle of a frozen wasteland. Draco, stop!" She pushed him away, trying to ignore the desire to do the opposite. "What has gotten into you?"
He sat back on his heels. "I suppose you deserve an explanation."
"Just a bit," she agreed.
"It's your fault."
"How?"
"You're here-at Christmas."
"Did you land on your head? The ice is fairly hard."
Draco rolled his eyes. "This was my project, but you're here, at Christmas, and I've decided to take a chance." He leaned closer. "You, me, a frozen wasteland, and no one around for a few hundred miles-what better place to see what happens?"
Ginny swallowed, shifting uncomfortably. "To clarify..."
The feel of his lips cut her off.
4.
Title: A Clean Slate
Words: 399
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angst, though not much.
"I like walking on clear untouched snow," she says with a small smile. "Something so wonderful about being the first one to leave your footprints.”
He nods without looking at her.
“Next snowstorm comes and it’s a blank slate again. It’s as if those footsteps were never even there,” she continues, giving him a meaningful look.
He stops and looks down. His eyes are blank and she knows it will take a lot to get through to him today. “They’ve still been left,” he says. “They may be covered, may be forgotten, but if they existed once they exist, and nothing can change that, Ginny.” He looks up at her. “I’ve walked through a lot of snowfields and I’ve got a lot of clean slates in my life, and I’ve ruined all of them. They may all have forgotten, or dismissed it, but I have not and will never.” He reaches out to take her hand. “I’m sorry.”
She wraps her fingers around his hand and then moves it until his palm is resting on her stomach. He pulls it back but she holds on tight. He raises his eyebrows at her questioningly and she holds his gaze. She’s thought about this for days, yet she hasn’t been able to find the words. She wants him to figure it out from her look, and he does.
He yanks his hand away and steps back.
“How long?” he breathes out.
“A few weeks.”
“Ginny… I can’t. I can’t be a father. I don’t know how to be, and he or she wouldn’t want me. I’m a -”
She steps close to him and presses their lips together. “Shh,” she whispers against his lips.
Gently, she kisses him again and then turns him around to look behind them. They stare at their footprints in the otherwise flawless field.
“Look at them, Draco,” she says and snakes her fingers through his. “Clean slate, just you and I, no one else.”
“But -”
“I know your past, Draco. I know your footprints are still under there and always will be, but it’s a clean slate for the two of us right now.”
He stares at the field for a long time.
“He’s going to be in Slytherin, you know,” he mumbles and Ginny throws her head back and laughs.
He squeezes her fingers tighter. Already, the snow is covering the footprints they’ve made.
Poll dg ldws challenge 6