Writer's Block at Sugarquill Challenge #01: Moving VOTING
Thank you so much for participating, everyone! It's so good to see that you, too, missed these challenges ♥ I have thirteen amazing submissions for this challenge - even if you didn't participate or decide not to vote, take your time to have a look at them and read, it's truly worth it!
Challenge: Moving
Points: 1st/2nd/3rd/Participation Only: 50/40/30/10 points & 20/15/10/5 knuts, respectively.
Deadline: Voting ends Wednesday, July 31st @ 21:59 UTC (timezone converter).
Details: You're free to write whatever pleases you, as long as your story relates to "moving" in any kind. This can mean anything - moving to another place, like Writer's Block did, moving on from the past, etc etc. Go wild!
Usual voting guidelines apply; you'll get two points for your vote and don't vote for yourself or ask others to vote for you!
1st:
2nd:
3rd:
Name || House
#01.
Title: Hermione's Diary
Dear Diary,
I'm quite settled into Hogwarts now, and it's somehow everything and nothing that I expected it to be. My classes are fantastic, of course, and I'm clearly the only one who bothered to read anything before getting here... but I'm still so unhappy. I haven't made any friends and almost nobody will talk to me... I overheard some boys making fun of me today - my own housemates! It was horrible and embarrassing, and I don't know how I'll be able to go back to my room and face the other Gryffindors, especially after they saw me crying.
I miss mum and dad and my friends. Maybe I can just stay here in the bathroom until I go home for Christmas? I know a spell that can deliver my homework to my professors... or maybe I'll just transfer to Beauxbatons. I'm sure my parents won't mind my moving to France...
Hermione Jean Granger
#02.
Title: Home
Lily walked through the front door carrying a cardboard box. “Last one,” she said as she closed the front door with her foot.” She looked around the front room and saw James sitting on the couch facing the large window that looked out onto the street. It was a nice spring day, and the children of Godric’s Hollow were playing outside. While Lily smiled at the sight, her husband sighed and rolled his head on to the back of the couch.
“What’s the matter, James?” Lily set the box down on the floor and took a seat next to her husband. She took his hand in hers and began rubbing circles in the way she knew soothed him. He didn’t speak at first, and he avoided eye contact.
“It’s small in here,” was all he said when he finally spoke. It was short, and without much emotion.
“I know,” Lily said in a small voice. “This wasn’t really in the plan was it? Getting pregnant, the prophecy, being forced into hiding…I’m sorry.” That got James’ attention.
“Why, for-for the baby? Aw, Lils, no matter what it looks like, I’m actually happy for the baby. We always planned to have kids anyway, it’s just…”
“A really shit time to have one?” she finished with a smile.
“Exactly,” James smiled back. He leaned over to kiss his wife on her forehead and buried his face in her hair, just like he did in happier times. Lily laughed and shrugged him off.
“Get off you big oaf!” She looked around their new home, boxes stacked high along the walls. “Maybe it won’t be so bad, you know? It’s small, you’re right about that, but we can make it work, or you’re not as talented with a wand as I thought you were.”
“Excuse me, I’m very talented with a wand, Mrs. Potter,” James smirked. Lily slapped him lightly on the shoulder.
“Not in front of the baby!” she teased. “Here! Start unpacking this one. It’s time to make this house a home!”
#03.
Title: Strange
Really strange didn't begin to cover how Ron felt as he packed his last trunk. Everything was thrown haphazardly inside because he literally waited until the last minute to finish packing. Hermione was impatiently tapping her foot in the doorway like he was taking forever. But all he could think was how strange it was -- how strange he felt to be leaving his bedroom. Sure, he lived at Hogwarts but that was only during the school year. He hadn't really lived anywhere but the Burrow.
"You'll come back, you know," Hermione reminded him, her voice not as soft as he thought she intended. Her patience was wearing a bit thin. "You can come back tomorrow for all I care as long as we leave right now. You know I'm paying movers by the hour!" He couldn't help but laugh at that. And somehow that made the strangeness dissipate slightly. She was right -- as always. He could come back tomorrow. And he was sure his mum would be happy to cook him breakfast or dinner or just see him. But the truth was that Ron was happy to be sharing a new place with Hermione.
#04.
Title: Nothing To Live For Here
Although he had survived the war, Rodolphus Lestrange knew his opportunities in England were limited. After all, his wife and most of his close friends were dead - and his own cause had been completely vilified. WIth trials about to start, Rodolphus knew that the English Wizarding World would show no mercy, so he decided he had to seek asylum as quickly as he could. Staying in the continent would be a bad idea as he could easily be tracked, but he had heard of an island in the Caribbean Sea which had close ties to the Russian Ministry of Magic, which generally supported his cause, but deliberately had no diplomatic relations with England. He knew the name of this island to sound something like "Cube-a" so, thinking of the island, he quickly Apparated over there. He immediately landed in a Pureblood wizarding embassy and knew he had found the right place. Not only that, but he could enjoy MUCH better weather than he had had to suffer through in England...
#05.
Title: Get your Move On!
She stared at the house in awe, a big smile on her face. If you had asked her three years ago where she saw herself, she definitely wouldn't say moving into a house, seven months pregnant, with a man she always thought she hated. The house was large, even by non-magical standards, and a beautiful dark shade of gray. It had two front windows on the left side and two on the right side of the door, which was in the very center of the house. The door was painted a light blue, with a dark blue number plate in the center of that. The number itself was 'thirteen' which most people thought quite unlucky.
But she knew otherwise, because the number thirteen was her favorite number, her most lucky number. It brought her hope -- it was what her life revolved around. But she knew she couldn't get into that now. She hefts the box she's carry up to side, careful not to put it on her protruding stomach.
"Lily-love, drop that box!" Her husband shouts with a grin as Lily turns around.
"James, I'm absolutely fine!" Lily laughs, shifting the box one more time against her hip as James comes forward and takes it from her.
"James!" Lily laughs, shaking her head as Sirius comes up beside her.
"Lily-love, no! You're seven months pregnant with our beautiful son--" James begins, putting his hand flat on her stomach, causing her to grin.
"That's not going to stop me from moving into my perfect home with my semi-perfect husband, James." Lily grins, kissing him.
"Oh, ew, guys. Get a room!" Sirius chuckles, winking at Lily.
"We don't need a room, Padfoot. We have a whole house!"
"Prongs, mate, I don't think your wife will do you on the kitchen counters," Sirius snorts.
"Oh Sirius, don't judge a bookworm by it's cover," Lily sing-songs, grinning as she walks into the house with the box as James laughs at the look on Sirius' face.
#06.
Title: Harry's First Birthday
"I still can't believe Sirius got him that." Lily ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. It was a resigned sigh, one she'd gotten used to in the last few years. James laughed and joined her against the wall, surveying the ever-growing mess before them. "Once he gets the hang of it he'll be great, Lily! A real Quidditch player in the making."
Lily smiled and continued to watch the young child race around their small cottage, weaving his way through the legs of their kitchen table on his new toy broomstick. His eyes may have matched Lily's but the mischievous grin on his face could belong to none other than his father.
She'd only closed her eyes for a moment when a loud crash, followed by an angry, animalistic screech, came from the next room. "Oh no," Lily groaned. James straightened up, his eyes wide. "The cat!"
#07.
Title: A New Home
Draco groaned, very nearly dropping the last box onto the counter and hearing the dishes rattle next to where he put the box. "Be careful!" Hermione said, scurrying over to make sure that he hadn't broken any of the dishes that her parents had given them when they found out that they were moving into their own place.
"Says the one who didn't have to move any boxes at all," Draco grumbled, ignoring the way that she rolled her eyes.
"You had plenty of offers for help. It's not my fault that you insisted that you could do it all on your own."
"If we hadn't moved into a Muggle building then I could've used magic."
Hermione rolled her eyes yet again as she followed Draco into their living room. Draco had accepted Harry and Ron's help for moving the furniture at least and they both sat down on the couch. He opened his arms and she moved into them gratefully, one hand resting on her stomach. It had been a decision that they hadn't taken lightly, moving in together. It was truly a point where they'd be moving on with their life but they'd both agreed that it was time. The baby had pushed them forward with it. "I like it here."
For a moment, Hermione expected something incredibly sarcastic to come out of Draco's mouth. Instead, he tightened his hold on her gently. "Me too," he said softly. She cuddled closer to him with a wide smile.
#08.
Title: Moving On
"Harry, look- this is ridiculous."
Harry looked up from the floor, where he'd been staring. His eyes stopped on Hermione. "Hey," he said, voice rough from disuse.
"Harry, we haven't seen you in weeks." Hermione hesitantly stepped forward into the living room of Grimmauld Place, shivering. He knew she'd always hated this place. Even he hated this place. But it was all he had left of Sirius.
"It hasn't been..." he trailed off. It probably had been weeks since he left the house. Kreacher brought him food, but he left it sitting on the table most of the time, which prompted the elf to sigh and vanish it later on. He'd fallen asleep on this chair for the past three nights.
Hermione walked up to him and knelt down, laying a hand on his shoulder. "You can't save everyone, Harry," she said, her eyes tearing up. "I miss him, too," she added in a whisper. Harry felt as if someone had punched him in the gut. How selfish had he been these past few weeks, maybe even months? Locking the Floo, locking the doors, locking the windows, locking himself into the house.
He had lost his best friend, but his other best friend had lost her fiance, the love of her life, and he'd left her to deal with it alone. A sob tore loose from his mouth. "I'm sorry," Harry said, his voice muffled because he'd thrown himself onto Hermione.
She didn't reply; she just sobbed into his shoulder. He stroked her hair gently.
Half an hour passed.
"You know, Hermione- I've been thinking of moving into a smaller place in London; there's a nice place up for sale that I pass sometimes when I'm walking from the Apparation point to the Ministry. Well, that I was passing... before... It's a pretty big place, and I could use some company. I don't think the Burrow is what you need right now."
Hermione nodded. "It's been awful, in the house. When Molly isn't sobbing, she's looking at me sadly. I can't take it anymore," she answered quietly.
"We need to move, and to move on. Keep on living. It's what he would have wanted," Harry let out a shaky breath. "And I need to move on from other things, as well," he added, vaguely gesturing toward the entirety of Grimmauld Place. "Let's go," he said, pressing a kiss to Hermione's temple and reaching for her hand.
#09.
Title: A Simple Question
"Please just spit it out, Ronald," Hermione said, looking exasperatedly at Ron across the table.
Ron contorted his face in thought and it was clear he was trying to muster up the courage for what he was about to say next. "And you know we're going to get married some day..."
She pursed her lips and crossed her arms, raising her eyebrows at him. "Is this a proposal? Because if it is, it's a pretty shotty one..."
"No! No..." he said quickly. Ron took a deep breath and nodded. "I think we should move in together!" he blurted out quickly, a little too loud for the restaurant they were in. He looked up at Hermione, trying to gauge her reaction.
Her arms uncrossed and a small smile started to form across her lips. "You want to move in together?"
His face was still unsure as he nodded. "Well...yeah. I thought, since we've been together so long...and I love you and everything that maybe we should-"
She raised her hand to stop him, her smile growing. "Of course I want to move in with you, Ron."
His face instantly began to glow, a grin spreading across his face. "Brilliant! That's just...amazing!"
She smiled brightly back at him as she thought of just what this would mean for them - being able to see each other every day, go to bed with each other every night, a pretty good start to the rest of their lives - and she had to agree that it was, indeed, pretty amazing.
#10.
Title: Untitled
She had buried her husband longer than five years ago. Ever since the days had come and gone, sun had set and always risen again, without her noticing. She had been left behind broken and numb, five winters ago, yet it seemed like an eternity. How many times had she been told to move on, and how many times had she covered her ears, pretending not to hear, pretending that he still was with her, that everything was all right. It was ridiculous, she knew. But how could she move on, if everything she ever loved had been taken from her? How could she live her life, fully aware that she'd never find happiness again? It made no sense, nothing of it made sense to her anymore.
Move on.
Half-mad with grief, they called her behind her back, the widow who had lost her mind. Perhaps she had lost her mind, Narcissa thought, but even if it were true, she couldn't care less. Lucius had been the love of her life, had been her best friend. Death had come too early, had violently ripped them apart, not granting her the chance to say goodbye. Move on, they said...
She couldn't move on, had tried too many times and always failed. The wounds were too deep to be healed, even five years later, five years after he had fallen in a war for nothing. One day she'd follow her husband to the grave, one day she'd find herself by his side again, never letting him go. Until then, there was nothing but grief, nothing but despair.
#11.
Title: Moving House
Harry and Ginny had lived for the first years of their marriage as well as before in 12 Grimmauld Place. After the war, Ginny with the help of Kreacher had turned into a sort of homey place. They had a lot of good memories of the place: their first entrance as man and wife, bringing James and Al home for the first time.
But now with Ginny pregnant with their third, Harry decided that old Grimmauld Place was no longer suited to their needs. So he and Ginny went to buy a house and lo and behold they had found the perfect house for his growing family-- in Godic's Hollow.
The day of the move came quickly and Molly graciously offered to babysit toddler James and baby Albus while Ginny and her big bulk slowly moved around the old house making sure that everything left with the help of her brothers, Kreacher, and of course Harry who had taken a day off of work.
By the afternoon, everything had been moved to the new house. Harry found Ginny standing in the empty kitchen, tears running down her cheeks.
"Hey what is wrong?" He asked in a panic.
She only smiled at him and said, "Despite everything we went through in this house, I think that I will really miss it."
Coming up to cuddle her and her big stomach, Harry nodded, "I know."
#12.
Title: Luck
Luna waved her wand majestically over the curtain, and it fluttered away, revealing beneath it a very large bird. At first, Harry thought it was a living creature of some sort, but as he looked closer he realized that it was lifeless, a work of art that could only be described as Luna-esque. The base appeared to be made of blue cushions, with a multitude of colored feathers attached, waving gently in the breeze. A radish formed the beak of the bird, and yellow flower petals crowned its head. "What is it, exactly?" Harry asked nervously, stepping closer, though he was wary of touching the thing.
"It's my rendition of a Blue Conloon," Luna told him, her eyes wide and bright. "Daddy says they bring luck to those they watch over. Unfortunately, they're terrified of wizards, so I couldn't bring you a real one. I was thinking this could be just as lucky as the real thing."
"But, er, why would I need one of these, Luna? The war's over now; I'm not really in need of any more luck. I rather wanted to start trying for something of a normal life, you know? Less excitement."
Luna looked at him carefully. "There are all sorts of luck, Harry," she said seriously.
Harry hesitated. He could see that Luna was attempting to give him something moving, a real gift for a real friend. Looking at Luna, he could see a shining happiness and affection in her gaze, as she looked back at him with her hands clasped in anticipation. And then, despite the fact that his gift was an awkward, silly bird, Harry suddenly found that he was moved, after all, because Luna was his friend, and there were all sorts of luck. Harry could do with some low-key luck, the luck to live a happy life, and Luna was, as usual, understanding, in her own unique way. He grinned at her. "Thanks, Luna."
Her smile was filled with joy. "You're welcome, Harry."
#13.
Title: Moving Through Time
Sometimes in the dark of night, when the man next to her is sleeping and the rest of the house is eerie silent, she lies awake and thinks about what could have been. What would have happened if she had only been braver. What would have happened if she had only gone with her heart.
She wonders if they would have made it. She thinks they probably would have. She’s not happy with Ron, and she knows he’s not happy with Ginny.
Maybe they would be married by now. Maybe they would have a baby or two, a little girl with his brilliant green eyes and a little boy with her brains.
Maybe he wouldn’t ignore her when he comes home from work. Maybe they would actually have a conversation instead of her watching him retreat into the other room with a firewhiskey in hand. Maybe he wouldn’t look at her like he regrets ever being with her in the first place.
Maybe she wouldn’t feel like she was cheated out of a life that could have made her happy.
People keep telling her she can’t go back. She has to move forward, they say. Embrace the life she does have, they say.
She wishes she could do that, but it’s not so easy. It’s not easy at all.
So instead she lies awake, stares into her past, and wishes once again she could move back in time.