Ficlet Challenge #13, Fic Challenge #4
Title: Hiding
Summary: The Hogwarts Express is over-saturated with Weasleys and Albus Potter is overwhelmed.
Characters/Pairings: Albus Severus Potter, Rose Weasley
Genre: Gen
Rating/Warnings: G
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 472
Albus Severus Potter was hiding from his family in the toilet of the Hogwarts Express. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant place to hide- the smell pricked annoyingly at his nose and there was not very much space to move around- but it served just fine as a place for being left alone to cry quietly. Albus clutched his knees to his chest, sniffled, and blew his nose on a wad of toilet paper. If he could help it, he wouldn’t leave until the train arrived in Hogsmeade.
He absolutely wouldn’t let James see him like this. If James knew how nervous he was about being away from home for so long, how nervous he was about being sorted, Albus would never hear the end of it. James would probably hiss at him again. Albus didn’t want to be taunted again about how he was a natural Slytherin, evil to the core despite what his father had told him. Albus just wanted a little space.
Someone knocked insistently on the door. “Al, I know you’re in there!” Rose called. “This is ridiculous! Come out and sit with me!”
Albus sniffled again, quietly, but said nothing.
Rose sighed. After a moment or two, she stopped knocking and he heard her smart shoes walking away.
Really, she wasn’t helping matters at all by trying to retrieve him. If the train hadn’t been so over-saturated with Weasley relatives, red hair at every turn, Albus might have found the trip more bearable. But they all had advice to give him, or wanted him to sit with them, or tried to discreetly prank him. It was just too much. This toilet was the only place he could escape.
Eventually, Albus’ stomach began to rumble. Surely it was close to lunch time, and the witch with the food trolley would be making her rounds. Albus thought of Chocolate Frogs and Drooble’s Gum and his mouth began to water. When he felt as though he could no longer stand the hunger, he dabbed at his face with some water to wipe away the tear tracks and inched open the door. There was no one in the corridor, no telltale hair in sight. Albus began his trek down the train, peering quickly into the compartments in a search for Rose.
He found her sitting in the last car before the prefect’s carriage, sitting with people who looked more like fellow first years than like relatives, a large bag of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans open in front of her. She grinned widely when he slid open the door.
“Hi, Al. I was wondering when you’d finally make an appearance. This is Dougal and Katie and Morgan…”
Albus sat down beside his cousin and reveled in the presence of people who hadn’t known him since before he could walk. It was refreshing.
Title: At the Pub
Summary: Justin wants to lose himself, but finds Dean instead.
Characters/Pairings: Justin Finch-Fletchley/Dean Thomas (...Um, Idk.)
Genre: Gen/romance
Rating/Warnings: PG 13 for drunkenness and alcohol
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 711
The pub was old and a bit run-down, with a faded and weather-battered sign hanging above the door. It was not at all the sort of place that Justin’s parents would have wanted him anywhere near but he pushed open the door and stepped into the smoky atmosphere, because it was exactly the sort of place where he could lose himself for a night. The lighting was dim and an old rock station was playing on the radio. There were some people in quiet but intense conversation at tables, and a man painting something on an easel in a corner, but most of the patrons were slumped over their drinks at the counter. It suited Justin’s mood perfectly.
He sat down on one of the bar stools, ordered a whiskey, and tried not to think too much as he gulped it down. It lacked the kick of firewhiskey, but it would do. After a couple more, it would be a bit harder to remember the fight he’d just had with his parents, the screaming and the way that Susan Bones had broken down crying when he told her that he was breaking up with her. But he hadn’t had a choice. He’d felt like a liar, like a fake, being with her. His parents could lecture and shout all they wanted, but it wouldn’t change who he was.
Justin was just starting to lose track of how many drinks he’d had, in a pleasant haze of vague confusion, when someone sat down beside him. He barely noticed at first, until the person asked in a tone of disbelief, “Justin Finch-Fletchley?”
Justin looked up, brow wrinkled, and squinted into a familiar brown face. “Dean Thomas?” he asked in a similar tone of disbelief.
Dean nodded and broke into a grin. “I haven’t seen you in ages. How have you been?”
Justin shrugged. “I’ve had better days. How are you?”
“Ah, I’m fine. Just… came here for inspiration, I suppose.” Dean gestured to the easel in the corner, now without anyone sitting behind it. “Sometimes a change of scenery helps.”
“Oh, you’re painting… you’re like a painter?” Justin stumbled over the words slightly as he looked Dean up and down, ratty old boots and a leather jacket, flecks of bright paint on his hands and sleeves, and one green speck on the very tip of his nose.
“I do what I can, when I can,” Dean replied casually.
“Oh.” Justin nodded wisely, wishing he was able to come up with anything more eloquent.
“Would you like to see it?” Dean asked. “I usually try to keep people away in places like this, considering… well, why don’t you have a look?”
Justin stood, gripping the counter for support at first, and followed Dean to the corner. There was a detailed drawing sketched on the canvas, of Hogwarts Castle in the spring, some of the sketch filled in with vibrant paint and some still blank. The tall green grass swayed as if in the wind and the branches of the Weeping Willow seemed to wave at Justin as he admired the picture, the brilliant shimmering sunset in the background and the pastel colors and budding flowers in the foreground.
“It’s beautiful,” Justin breathed. “Do you have more? Do you have any to sell? There’s this wall in my flat and it’s so dreary and depressing…”
“Sure,” Dean replied. “I’ve got loads. But, erm, maybe you’d like to get something to eat first? At a proper restaurant, not pub food, I mean.”
Justin thought for a moment, then nodded. “I don’t know what there is to eat around here, though.”
“There’s this great little place around the corner. I’ll show you.”
Justin stumbled over his own feet twice on the way to the door, and nearly fell to the floor. He blushed as Dean helped him back up.
“I’m terribly sorry. I’m afraid I’m a bit drunk. I wasn’t sure if you’d noticed.”
Dean chuckled quietly. “It was quite hard to miss, actually.”
Justin blushed a deeper shade of red.
“But it’s alright,” Dean reassured him. “I think the food will help.”
Justin nodded and he held on to Dean’s shoulder for support as they left the pub, feeling the most comfortable he had all night.
1183/30 + 10 for challenge= 49 points to Hufflepuff
Jennifer//Hufflepuff
Summary: The Hogwarts Express is over-saturated with Weasleys and Albus Potter is overwhelmed.
Characters/Pairings: Albus Severus Potter, Rose Weasley
Genre: Gen
Rating/Warnings: G
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 472
Albus Severus Potter was hiding from his family in the toilet of the Hogwarts Express. It wasn’t a particularly pleasant place to hide- the smell pricked annoyingly at his nose and there was not very much space to move around- but it served just fine as a place for being left alone to cry quietly. Albus clutched his knees to his chest, sniffled, and blew his nose on a wad of toilet paper. If he could help it, he wouldn’t leave until the train arrived in Hogsmeade.
He absolutely wouldn’t let James see him like this. If James knew how nervous he was about being away from home for so long, how nervous he was about being sorted, Albus would never hear the end of it. James would probably hiss at him again. Albus didn’t want to be taunted again about how he was a natural Slytherin, evil to the core despite what his father had told him. Albus just wanted a little space.
Someone knocked insistently on the door. “Al, I know you’re in there!” Rose called. “This is ridiculous! Come out and sit with me!”
Albus sniffled again, quietly, but said nothing.
Rose sighed. After a moment or two, she stopped knocking and he heard her smart shoes walking away.
Really, she wasn’t helping matters at all by trying to retrieve him. If the train hadn’t been so over-saturated with Weasley relatives, red hair at every turn, Albus might have found the trip more bearable. But they all had advice to give him, or wanted him to sit with them, or tried to discreetly prank him. It was just too much. This toilet was the only place he could escape.
Eventually, Albus’ stomach began to rumble. Surely it was close to lunch time, and the witch with the food trolley would be making her rounds. Albus thought of Chocolate Frogs and Drooble’s Gum and his mouth began to water. When he felt as though he could no longer stand the hunger, he dabbed at his face with some water to wipe away the tear tracks and inched open the door. There was no one in the corridor, no telltale hair in sight. Albus began his trek down the train, peering quickly into the compartments in a search for Rose.
He found her sitting in the last car before the prefect’s carriage, sitting with people who looked more like fellow first years than like relatives, a large bag of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans open in front of her. She grinned widely when he slid open the door.
“Hi, Al. I was wondering when you’d finally make an appearance. This is Dougal and Katie and Morgan…”
Albus sat down beside his cousin and reveled in the presence of people who hadn’t known him since before he could walk. It was refreshing.
Title: At the Pub
Summary: Justin wants to lose himself, but finds Dean instead.
Characters/Pairings: Justin Finch-Fletchley/Dean Thomas (...Um, Idk.)
Genre: Gen/romance
Rating/Warnings: PG 13 for drunkenness and alcohol
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 711
The pub was old and a bit run-down, with a faded and weather-battered sign hanging above the door. It was not at all the sort of place that Justin’s parents would have wanted him anywhere near but he pushed open the door and stepped into the smoky atmosphere, because it was exactly the sort of place where he could lose himself for a night. The lighting was dim and an old rock station was playing on the radio. There were some people in quiet but intense conversation at tables, and a man painting something on an easel in a corner, but most of the patrons were slumped over their drinks at the counter. It suited Justin’s mood perfectly.
He sat down on one of the bar stools, ordered a whiskey, and tried not to think too much as he gulped it down. It lacked the kick of firewhiskey, but it would do. After a couple more, it would be a bit harder to remember the fight he’d just had with his parents, the screaming and the way that Susan Bones had broken down crying when he told her that he was breaking up with her. But he hadn’t had a choice. He’d felt like a liar, like a fake, being with her. His parents could lecture and shout all they wanted, but it wouldn’t change who he was.
Justin was just starting to lose track of how many drinks he’d had, in a pleasant haze of vague confusion, when someone sat down beside him. He barely noticed at first, until the person asked in a tone of disbelief, “Justin Finch-Fletchley?”
Justin looked up, brow wrinkled, and squinted into a familiar brown face. “Dean Thomas?” he asked in a similar tone of disbelief.
Dean nodded and broke into a grin. “I haven’t seen you in ages. How have you been?”
Justin shrugged. “I’ve had better days. How are you?”
“Ah, I’m fine. Just… came here for inspiration, I suppose.” Dean gestured to the easel in the corner, now without anyone sitting behind it. “Sometimes a change of scenery helps.”
“Oh, you’re painting… you’re like a painter?” Justin stumbled over the words slightly as he looked Dean up and down, ratty old boots and a leather jacket, flecks of bright paint on his hands and sleeves, and one green speck on the very tip of his nose.
“I do what I can, when I can,” Dean replied casually.
“Oh.” Justin nodded wisely, wishing he was able to come up with anything more eloquent.
“Would you like to see it?” Dean asked. “I usually try to keep people away in places like this, considering… well, why don’t you have a look?”
Justin stood, gripping the counter for support at first, and followed Dean to the corner. There was a detailed drawing sketched on the canvas, of Hogwarts Castle in the spring, some of the sketch filled in with vibrant paint and some still blank. The tall green grass swayed as if in the wind and the branches of the Weeping Willow seemed to wave at Justin as he admired the picture, the brilliant shimmering sunset in the background and the pastel colors and budding flowers in the foreground.
“It’s beautiful,” Justin breathed. “Do you have more? Do you have any to sell? There’s this wall in my flat and it’s so dreary and depressing…”
“Sure,” Dean replied. “I’ve got loads. But, erm, maybe you’d like to get something to eat first? At a proper restaurant, not pub food, I mean.”
Justin thought for a moment, then nodded. “I don’t know what there is to eat around here, though.”
“There’s this great little place around the corner. I’ll show you.”
Justin stumbled over his own feet twice on the way to the door, and nearly fell to the floor. He blushed as Dean helped him back up.
“I’m terribly sorry. I’m afraid I’m a bit drunk. I wasn’t sure if you’d noticed.”
Dean chuckled quietly. “It was quite hard to miss, actually.”
Justin blushed a deeper shade of red.
“But it’s alright,” Dean reassured him. “I think the food will help.”
Justin nodded and he held on to Dean’s shoulder for support as they left the pub, feeling the most comfortable he had all night.
1183/30 + 10 for challenge= 49 points to Hufflepuff
Jennifer//Hufflepuff