Round 6 Challenge #6: Voting
Confused about which fork to use? Generally speaking, you start with the outermost one, and work your way in. Don’t forget to put your napkin in your lap … It’s time for the week six Feast of Love!
Welcome all to the sumptuous 4 course meal of "Love of Food."
A couple of things to remember when deciding which drabbles to vote for (most and least favorite):
Guidelines:
As a voter, you have the option of leaving a brief statement about why you voted the way you did, for both most and least favorite. Your feedback will then be given to the drabble writer (if they want the feedback) ANONYMOUSLY.
Example: Most - #40: the ending was brilliant - OR - Least - #57: the ending fell flat
Please remember writers, that you may not vote for yourselves.
Here we go for week six!
Choose your favorite and least favorite drabbles. Favorites will receive +1 point per vote, and least favorites -1 point per vote.
Voting ends at 11:59pm, Friday, March 26th.
What is patriotism but the love of the food one ate as a child? ~Lin Yutang
1
Title: A House is Not a Home
Author: terrayn
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): AU, Draco defects to the Order of the Phoenix and Hermione picks him up.
Word Count: 499
"I haven’t got a home."
A wry smile touched her lips. "I don’t believe you."
Hermione tilted against the wall to face him. They sat on opposite ends of the grate, a fire crackling between them and wafting warmth into the crisp air.
As far as abandoned cabins in the countryside went, she'd seen worse. She tried to imagine Harry’s and Ron's reaction when they learned she'd shacked up with the Order's latest stray while on the lam from Death Eaters, and bit back a laugh.
"The idea must mean a lot to you," she murmured.
"Not really." Malfoy shifted and slanted her a drop it look.
But they’d been cooped up from a raging blizzard for hours and she was in no mood to be obliging. "You've got an ocean of money, an estate and loads of relatives. Any one of those things gets you a home."
He let out a sigh. "I never said I didn't have a physical home. Look, when wherever you're sleeping is home to you, the word loses any meaning."
"So this…," she swiped at the air between them, "…this shanty is a home to you?"
"Practically speaking? Yes."
"Then impractically speaking, why did you run away from the Manor-if you won’t call it home? You can't drop these cryptic remarks and expect me not to pry."
Malfoy gave a bark of laughter. "Expect you not to pry? Only an idiot's that optimistic. If you're so keen on it, you tell me what the hell a home is."
She considered, snagging her lower lip between her teeth. "I suppose...it's not a place, really. Or a collection of things, like the house where you grew up or the food you ate when you were a child. It's more a feeling. That you're safe and you belong. Not real but at the same time, probably the realest thing there is."
"What,” he asked, “does that even mean?"
"I can't tell you what it is. It's just- It's home!"
"All right. Then let me tell you what it's not. Home's not where your family has got to tiptoe and whisper," he said through gritted teeth. "It's not where a Crucio-happy warden's decided to swallow the key. Where nothing makes sense anymore because if Muggle blood makes you less of a wizard, then what the hell does that make him? Neat enough of an explanation for you?"
In the stinging silence, she reached over and gripped his wrist. He flinched, pulse slamming against her fingers and eyes dark with need and hunger for something to hope for.
"You don't have to pretend home doesn't mean anything because yours was stolen. You, me, the Order-we're not fighting for lofty ideals or queen and country. Just for our homes," she told him softly. "And we're going to win, Malfoy. We're going to win and go home."
Slowly, he freed his wrist and squeezed her fingers. They sat bathed in comfort and flickering light until the sun rose.
2
Title: Homesick?
Author: vox_rowan
Rating: G
Warning(s): none
Word Count: 434
“Of all the witches to be stuck in a backwater with.”
Hermione looked up peevishly from the month-old Daily Prophet which was nearly as worn out from her readings as the wooden floor of Draco’s favorite pacing spot.
“Well it’s not as if anyone else wanted to protect you until the trial,” she snapped in response. “If you want to return to England and get that prissy head of yours blown off, by all means.”
For a moment it appeared that the blonde was setting up for a tremendous sulk, but instead he flopped onto the overstuffed couch of the sitting room. The small, magically warded townhouse didn’t have enough space to contain him, let alone Hermione. And yet every day for the past two weeks they had come to this room to sit, snip, and snap at each other until bedtime.
“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get back to England?” Draco asked idly, twirling his wand.
“Eat the biggest basket of fish-n-chips that I can cram into my face,” Hermione replied.
Draco flicked an eyebrow at her. “Really? I would have thought you’d make a mad dash to the nearest bookstore.”
She colored faintly, “Well that too, but. I just want a great, nasty fry-up followed by a sticky toffee pudding that will send my mother running for her tools. I’m so tired of being stuck in this house and living on emergency rations.”
“They’re like you, Granger--bland and wholesome.”
Hermione glowered at him, “Oh and you’re so daring? I’m pretty sure if you even came within smelling-distance of curry chips, your aristocratic arteries would wither.”
Draco sniffed, “Just because I prefer afternoon tea to whatever you proles eat doesn’t mean I won’t go for a bit of cottage pie now and then.”
“Bangers and mash?”
“With grilled tomatoes.”
“Bread pudding?”
“Only if there are pineapples in the custard sauce.”
“Picky eater.”
“I’m picky about everything that comes near my mouth, Granger,” Draco remarked with an insinuating smirk.
Hermione tossed her hair and went back to reading her newspaper for the thousandth time.
“Chocolate frogs.”
“What?”
“I miss chocolate frogs. I stopped eating them after the War,” he continued, hesitantly.
“Why?”
Draco looked distant. “Well that’s when they started issuing the new set of cards.”
Hermione’s eyebrows drew together and then she blushed again. The set, entitled Heroes and Villans of the Second Wizarding War featured individual profiles of herself, Ron, and Harry, along with a super-rare "Golden Trio" card.
“I didn’t even get one in the end, y’know,” he remarked.
“Maybe because you’re not really a villan.”
3
Title: Differing Tastes
Author: bookishwench
Rating: PG for very mild language
Warning(s): none
Word Count: 499
“If one of the elves had brought anything resembling this coagulated, foul-smelling mass to our table, Father would have done things so indescribably horrific that I would have become a charter member of S.P.E.W. in protest,” Draco said. “What the hell is that?”
“Fish and chips,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes at her melodramatic boyfriend. “They’re very nice.”
“They’re very scary, you mean. You call these chips?” Draco asked, picking up one of the greasy potatoes gingerly, as though afraid it might start to dissolve his skin.
“You’ve had chips before,” Hermione said, a little annoyed with his aristocratic food snobbery.
“Of course I’ve had chips! This, however, is not even in the same species,” Draco said, sniffing it disdainfully. “It smells of beef.”
“They were cooked the traditional way in beef drippings,” Hermione said, temper fraying by the second.
“Why kill a perfectly good source of filet mignon and for this trash?” Draco asked, tossing the chip back into the sack.
“Well, you don’t have to eat it! Just because my parents used to take me to that stand when I was little and I wanted to share it with you for some unknown, idiotic reason, don’t feel compelled to enjoy bonding over a symbol of my childhood!” Hermione yelled angrily, grabbing the take away and stomping into the kitchen. “I’m fully aware you think both I and my choice of cuisine aren’t good enough for you!”
“How was I to know it was symbolic haddock?” Draco mumbled to himself.
He stood still for a moment, trying to figure out what to do, then followed Hermione’s path to the kitchen and found her sitting at the table, sobbing into a fish and chips wrapper.
“I’m sorry,” he said, sitting next to her, “and I don’t think you’re beneath me just because you like food that gives me nightmares. You’re not beneath me at all. Just the opposite, really, since I can’t figure out what you’re doing hanging about with the likes of me.”
She looked up at him, eyes sparking angrily.
“Stop that! I gave Ron a case of Jellylegs last week for saying that exact thing,” she said.
“Then stop thinking I believe you’re lower than me! Your food, yes, that I do think is subhuman, but you are not a plate of fish and chips!” he bellowed back.
She stared at him, he stared back, and they both broke down laughing.
“I’m being silly, aren’t I,” she said, taking his hand.
“Yes, but I love you anyway,” he said, smiling at her.
She gave him a sidelong look, then said, “Two bites and I’ll never speak of it again.”
Draco sighed, shoved one chip in his mouth, and added a bite of fish.
“Well?”
“Hideous,” he replied, swallowing with difficulty. “Now, if you want a real childhood favorite that’s delicious and elegant, I’ll bring mine tomorrow.”
The next day when Hermione returned home, she was horrified to see Draco beaming adoringly at a platter of haggis.
4
Title: Just One Bite
Author: ayane_tsurugi
Rating: G
Warning(s): None.
Word Count: 376
“Never?” Hermione was staring at him from across the table, disbelief etched into her features. “Not once?”
Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “No. Truly, honestly, never, not once. I’ve not eaten fish and chips before.” They’d been having this conversation since she’d placed the order nearly ten minutes ago.
“But that’s impossible! It’s,” she said, her hand waving in front of her as she searched for the word, “unpatriotic!”
A waiter placed their plates in front of them and the overwhelming scent of grease and vinegar made him scrunch his nose. “Consuming fried fish and potatoes is not a measure of patriotism. I’ll have you know Malfoys have always been noted as highly patriotic.”
She rolled her eyes. “Being an advocate for Pureblood rights doesn’t make you a patriot, Draco. It makes you a supporter of multi-generational inbreeding.” He scowled at her, but didn’t argue. They’d had that conversation before, too. She broke off a piece of her fish and set it on the edge of his plate. “Here, try it.”
He turned the plate so that it was as far from him as possible and frowned. “I think not.”
“One bite,” she pleaded. “One bite, and I’ll leave you alone about it. I promise.”
He considered this statement. Coming from the woman who never let anything go, it was a significant promise. Before he could talk himself out of it, he popped the morsel into his mouth, chewed as quickly as he could, and swallowed with a grimace.
“Are you happy now?” he asked, and she nodded, though she wore a disappointed frown.
Scooting herself to the edge of the booth, she stood. “I just need the loo before I eat. I’ll be right back.”
He nodded and watched her leave from the corner of his eye, waiting until she disappeared from view before reaching over to break off another piece of fish and toss it into his mouth, closing his eyes as the taste washed through him again.
When he opened his eyes again, it was to a smirking Hermione standing over him with her arms crossed. He had the grace to give her a sheepish smile, and she laughed.
“Have I ever told you that you’re an abysmal liar?”
ooo
REMEMBER: Vote for the NUMBER of the drabble, NOT THE NAME. It just makes it easier on the mods!
Please leave both a MOST favorite and a LEAST favorite vote. We must have both in order for your votes to count.
Poll Round 6 Challenge 6
For readers, supporters, lovers of everything dramione -
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Eat, Drink and Be Merry at the Feast of Love!
Click the Ticket to Read & Vote!
This Week: Love of Food
Voting ends 11:59 EST (GMT -4) March 26th
To Get this Pretty for your Journal - Spread the Drabble Love!
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Eat, Drink and Be Merry at the Feast of Love!
Click the Ticket to Read & Vote!
This Week: Love of Food
Voting ends 11:59 EST (GMT -4) March 26th
Please spread the word and thanks for dropping by!
Welcome all to the sumptuous 4 course meal of "Love of Food."
A couple of things to remember when deciding which drabbles to vote for (most and least favorite):
Guidelines:
- Which drabble best incorporates the prompt?
- Is the drabble clever, different, fresh? Does it evoke an emotional response (good or bad)?
- Does the drabble contain grammar, canon or spelling errors?
As a voter, you have the option of leaving a brief statement about why you voted the way you did, for both most and least favorite. Your feedback will then be given to the drabble writer (if they want the feedback) ANONYMOUSLY.
Example: Most - #40: the ending was brilliant - OR - Least - #57: the ending fell flat
Please remember writers, that you may not vote for yourselves.
Here we go for week six!
Choose your favorite and least favorite drabbles. Favorites will receive +1 point per vote, and least favorites -1 point per vote.
Voting ends at 11:59pm, Friday, March 26th.
What is patriotism but the love of the food one ate as a child? ~Lin Yutang
1
Title: A House is Not a Home
Author: terrayn
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): AU, Draco defects to the Order of the Phoenix and Hermione picks him up.
Word Count: 499
"I haven’t got a home."
A wry smile touched her lips. "I don’t believe you."
Hermione tilted against the wall to face him. They sat on opposite ends of the grate, a fire crackling between them and wafting warmth into the crisp air.
As far as abandoned cabins in the countryside went, she'd seen worse. She tried to imagine Harry’s and Ron's reaction when they learned she'd shacked up with the Order's latest stray while on the lam from Death Eaters, and bit back a laugh.
"The idea must mean a lot to you," she murmured.
"Not really." Malfoy shifted and slanted her a drop it look.
But they’d been cooped up from a raging blizzard for hours and she was in no mood to be obliging. "You've got an ocean of money, an estate and loads of relatives. Any one of those things gets you a home."
He let out a sigh. "I never said I didn't have a physical home. Look, when wherever you're sleeping is home to you, the word loses any meaning."
"So this…," she swiped at the air between them, "…this shanty is a home to you?"
"Practically speaking? Yes."
"Then impractically speaking, why did you run away from the Manor-if you won’t call it home? You can't drop these cryptic remarks and expect me not to pry."
Malfoy gave a bark of laughter. "Expect you not to pry? Only an idiot's that optimistic. If you're so keen on it, you tell me what the hell a home is."
She considered, snagging her lower lip between her teeth. "I suppose...it's not a place, really. Or a collection of things, like the house where you grew up or the food you ate when you were a child. It's more a feeling. That you're safe and you belong. Not real but at the same time, probably the realest thing there is."
"What,” he asked, “does that even mean?"
"I can't tell you what it is. It's just- It's home!"
"All right. Then let me tell you what it's not. Home's not where your family has got to tiptoe and whisper," he said through gritted teeth. "It's not where a Crucio-happy warden's decided to swallow the key. Where nothing makes sense anymore because if Muggle blood makes you less of a wizard, then what the hell does that make him? Neat enough of an explanation for you?"
In the stinging silence, she reached over and gripped his wrist. He flinched, pulse slamming against her fingers and eyes dark with need and hunger for something to hope for.
"You don't have to pretend home doesn't mean anything because yours was stolen. You, me, the Order-we're not fighting for lofty ideals or queen and country. Just for our homes," she told him softly. "And we're going to win, Malfoy. We're going to win and go home."
Slowly, he freed his wrist and squeezed her fingers. They sat bathed in comfort and flickering light until the sun rose.
2
Title: Homesick?
Author: vox_rowan
Rating: G
Warning(s): none
Word Count: 434
“Of all the witches to be stuck in a backwater with.”
Hermione looked up peevishly from the month-old Daily Prophet which was nearly as worn out from her readings as the wooden floor of Draco’s favorite pacing spot.
“Well it’s not as if anyone else wanted to protect you until the trial,” she snapped in response. “If you want to return to England and get that prissy head of yours blown off, by all means.”
For a moment it appeared that the blonde was setting up for a tremendous sulk, but instead he flopped onto the overstuffed couch of the sitting room. The small, magically warded townhouse didn’t have enough space to contain him, let alone Hermione. And yet every day for the past two weeks they had come to this room to sit, snip, and snap at each other until bedtime.
“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get back to England?” Draco asked idly, twirling his wand.
“Eat the biggest basket of fish-n-chips that I can cram into my face,” Hermione replied.
Draco flicked an eyebrow at her. “Really? I would have thought you’d make a mad dash to the nearest bookstore.”
She colored faintly, “Well that too, but. I just want a great, nasty fry-up followed by a sticky toffee pudding that will send my mother running for her tools. I’m so tired of being stuck in this house and living on emergency rations.”
“They’re like you, Granger--bland and wholesome.”
Hermione glowered at him, “Oh and you’re so daring? I’m pretty sure if you even came within smelling-distance of curry chips, your aristocratic arteries would wither.”
Draco sniffed, “Just because I prefer afternoon tea to whatever you proles eat doesn’t mean I won’t go for a bit of cottage pie now and then.”
“Bangers and mash?”
“With grilled tomatoes.”
“Bread pudding?”
“Only if there are pineapples in the custard sauce.”
“Picky eater.”
“I’m picky about everything that comes near my mouth, Granger,” Draco remarked with an insinuating smirk.
Hermione tossed her hair and went back to reading her newspaper for the thousandth time.
“Chocolate frogs.”
“What?”
“I miss chocolate frogs. I stopped eating them after the War,” he continued, hesitantly.
“Why?”
Draco looked distant. “Well that’s when they started issuing the new set of cards.”
Hermione’s eyebrows drew together and then she blushed again. The set, entitled Heroes and Villans of the Second Wizarding War featured individual profiles of herself, Ron, and Harry, along with a super-rare "Golden Trio" card.
“I didn’t even get one in the end, y’know,” he remarked.
“Maybe because you’re not really a villan.”
3
Title: Differing Tastes
Author: bookishwench
Rating: PG for very mild language
Warning(s): none
Word Count: 499
“If one of the elves had brought anything resembling this coagulated, foul-smelling mass to our table, Father would have done things so indescribably horrific that I would have become a charter member of S.P.E.W. in protest,” Draco said. “What the hell is that?”
“Fish and chips,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes at her melodramatic boyfriend. “They’re very nice.”
“They’re very scary, you mean. You call these chips?” Draco asked, picking up one of the greasy potatoes gingerly, as though afraid it might start to dissolve his skin.
“You’ve had chips before,” Hermione said, a little annoyed with his aristocratic food snobbery.
“Of course I’ve had chips! This, however, is not even in the same species,” Draco said, sniffing it disdainfully. “It smells of beef.”
“They were cooked the traditional way in beef drippings,” Hermione said, temper fraying by the second.
“Why kill a perfectly good source of filet mignon and for this trash?” Draco asked, tossing the chip back into the sack.
“Well, you don’t have to eat it! Just because my parents used to take me to that stand when I was little and I wanted to share it with you for some unknown, idiotic reason, don’t feel compelled to enjoy bonding over a symbol of my childhood!” Hermione yelled angrily, grabbing the take away and stomping into the kitchen. “I’m fully aware you think both I and my choice of cuisine aren’t good enough for you!”
“How was I to know it was symbolic haddock?” Draco mumbled to himself.
He stood still for a moment, trying to figure out what to do, then followed Hermione’s path to the kitchen and found her sitting at the table, sobbing into a fish and chips wrapper.
“I’m sorry,” he said, sitting next to her, “and I don’t think you’re beneath me just because you like food that gives me nightmares. You’re not beneath me at all. Just the opposite, really, since I can’t figure out what you’re doing hanging about with the likes of me.”
She looked up at him, eyes sparking angrily.
“Stop that! I gave Ron a case of Jellylegs last week for saying that exact thing,” she said.
“Then stop thinking I believe you’re lower than me! Your food, yes, that I do think is subhuman, but you are not a plate of fish and chips!” he bellowed back.
She stared at him, he stared back, and they both broke down laughing.
“I’m being silly, aren’t I,” she said, taking his hand.
“Yes, but I love you anyway,” he said, smiling at her.
She gave him a sidelong look, then said, “Two bites and I’ll never speak of it again.”
Draco sighed, shoved one chip in his mouth, and added a bite of fish.
“Well?”
“Hideous,” he replied, swallowing with difficulty. “Now, if you want a real childhood favorite that’s delicious and elegant, I’ll bring mine tomorrow.”
The next day when Hermione returned home, she was horrified to see Draco beaming adoringly at a platter of haggis.
4
Title: Just One Bite
Author: ayane_tsurugi
Rating: G
Warning(s): None.
Word Count: 376
“Never?” Hermione was staring at him from across the table, disbelief etched into her features. “Not once?”
Draco pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “No. Truly, honestly, never, not once. I’ve not eaten fish and chips before.” They’d been having this conversation since she’d placed the order nearly ten minutes ago.
“But that’s impossible! It’s,” she said, her hand waving in front of her as she searched for the word, “unpatriotic!”
A waiter placed their plates in front of them and the overwhelming scent of grease and vinegar made him scrunch his nose. “Consuming fried fish and potatoes is not a measure of patriotism. I’ll have you know Malfoys have always been noted as highly patriotic.”
She rolled her eyes. “Being an advocate for Pureblood rights doesn’t make you a patriot, Draco. It makes you a supporter of multi-generational inbreeding.” He scowled at her, but didn’t argue. They’d had that conversation before, too. She broke off a piece of her fish and set it on the edge of his plate. “Here, try it.”
He turned the plate so that it was as far from him as possible and frowned. “I think not.”
“One bite,” she pleaded. “One bite, and I’ll leave you alone about it. I promise.”
He considered this statement. Coming from the woman who never let anything go, it was a significant promise. Before he could talk himself out of it, he popped the morsel into his mouth, chewed as quickly as he could, and swallowed with a grimace.
“Are you happy now?” he asked, and she nodded, though she wore a disappointed frown.
Scooting herself to the edge of the booth, she stood. “I just need the loo before I eat. I’ll be right back.”
He nodded and watched her leave from the corner of his eye, waiting until she disappeared from view before reaching over to break off another piece of fish and toss it into his mouth, closing his eyes as the taste washed through him again.
When he opened his eyes again, it was to a smirking Hermione standing over him with her arms crossed. He had the grace to give her a sheepish smile, and she laughed.
“Have I ever told you that you’re an abysmal liar?”
ooo
REMEMBER: Vote for the NUMBER of the drabble, NOT THE NAME. It just makes it easier on the mods!
Please leave both a MOST favorite and a LEAST favorite vote. We must have both in order for your votes to count.
Poll Round 6 Challenge 6
For readers, supporters, lovers of everything dramione -
Copy & Paste from the Box
Eat, Drink and Be Merry at the Feast of Love!
Click the Ticket to Read & Vote!
This Week: Love of Food
Voting ends 11:59 EST (GMT -4) March 26th
To Get this Pretty for your Journal - Spread the Drabble Love!
>
Eat, Drink and Be Merry at the Feast of Love!
Click the Ticket to Read & Vote!
This Week: Love of Food
Voting ends 11:59 EST (GMT -4) March 26th
Please spread the word and thanks for dropping by!