Writer's Block 35.5 Voting
Time to vote on our submissions for the prompt "Under pressure"!
Voting will end on July 16 @ 11:59 PM UTC. You get 2 points for casting a vote.
Please do not vote for yourself, ask others to vote for you, or reveal which drabble is yours in any way.
1. Title: Make your move
Hermione's hair could be described as frizzy at the best of times, but right now her hair looked as if it had a life of its own. A life that had fought its way through a bush during a hurricane. This always happened when she was stressed and right now she was under a huge amount of pressure to get this right.
Beady eyes peered over her shoulder, watching her every move like a hawk.
Her fingers trembled as she deliberated for a moment before finally making her decision and slowly, made her move.
CRASH!
"JENGA!" yelled Ron! "Y'know, 'Mione. I think I'm getting good at this Muggle Game Night thing."
2. Title: Pressure
“Why do you…” The breath came out of Bella perilously close to a sob as she curled into herself. “Why do you do that, my Lord?”
She shifted away from me as I sat down next to her. It was a small, involuntary thing, and it simply would not do.
I gathered her into my arms and laid her head against my chest. “Hush now, my lovely Bella.” My fingers stroked through her hair, sliding through the dark locks with practiced ease. I leaned in until my breath was hot against her ear. “Think how well you performed. How beautifully you defended yourself. How exquisitely you accomplished your objective with nary a wasted motion.”
I felt the tension sing through her as she struggled against herself. My praise was always sincere with her, and she knew it. And she craved it. Just as she craved my touch. But this lesson had been particularly painful for her. Being abandoned by me midway through our ambiguously romantic outing, left to improvise a plan against three not-unskilled aurors to extract an object we needed.
She had been glorious. Just as I had hoped.
I kissed the top of her head. “Would you have ever known you were capable of such things if you hadn’t been put in that situation?”
I felt her quiet in my arms, felt her truly consider it. “No,” she said at last.
I resumed stroking her hair. “People respond differently to pressure. Some break. But some…” I trailed off.
“What do some do?” she whispered.
I lifted her face to me, turning it to kiss first one temple and then the other. “Some are forged into diamonds, lovely Bella.”
3. Title: Much Better Without Her
Ron wanted to scream. He didn't think that he could hate school shopping more than when he was a kid. But he hated school shopping for different reasons and he wished he could back to that reason. He liked it better than the reason he hated it this time, as adult; Hermione.
Hermione was so irritating during their trip to Diagon Alley. She gave Ron a list of the books to buy for Rose but she was hovering over him on what books not to get and what to get. "Not that one, RON. That one has a tear on the bottom." "Come on RON, that one is too old looking."
He was about to go apparate out of Flourish and Blotts and into his house for a relaxing time of being alone without Hermione around to bug him. Enjoy the quietness without her.....
4. Title: All that Glitters is not Gold
When your name is Ludo Bagman and you owe quite a lot of gold to angry goblins, you know what it feels like to work under pressure. Ludo thinks goblins are way too serious when it comes to money - what is a few pieces of gold here or there? But since the goblins want their gold back, with interest of course, Ludo really has to find a way to earn money and fast. Thankfully the Triwizard Tournament will give him an excellent chance to win some money; he knows that some of the Hogwarts professors are more than willing to gamble a little. If only Crouch would let him be for a while and not watch over his shoulder all the time. As if he didn't have enough pressure already with the whole goblin thing.
5. Title: I'll show YOU overrated
“What do you mean ‘weird’?”
“I mean weird. I tried to fix it but it’s one of her better ones. Just, remind me never to do anything that will make my wife hex me. I mean it, stun me if you have to. It would be kinder.”
“What did he do?” said Harry, shrugging off his coat. The rack reached out politely to take it as Harry gratefully handed it over.
Ron held out his coat and was resoundingly ignored. 12 Grimmauld Place had not forgiven him for accidentally setting fire to the curtains in the drawing room during a particularly heated play by play of the Chudley Cannons final match of the season.
Harry turned into his sitting room and paused at the miserable figure currently hunched in his best armchair (closest to the fireplace). He thought he had seen the full gamut of Draco Malfoy’s Spectrum of Sulk.
He was wrong.
Draco had achieved new heights of already-high dudgeon, arms folded tight across his chest. Glaring balefully at them, he for all the world looked like a dry, human version of a drowned cat.
So far Harry couldn’t detect anything that warranted Ron’s panicked owl. He scrunched his nose at Ron in silent question.
“He…insulted her.” Ron winced.
A low ugly feeling settled in Harry’s gut. He turned to Draco, shocked. How could he still be so bigoted after all this time? Weren’t they (sort of) friends now?
Ron waved his hands, “Not like you’re thinking, mate! He was picking up some papers from ‘Mione for the department, and I thought it was safe to leave them alone for five seconds and make a cuppa. But no,” he raised a sardonic eyebrow at Draco who looked like he was trying to dismember Ron with his mind. “Apparently they require constant adult supervision.”
Draco snorted.
Ron continued, unimpressed. “I know how we’re all alright ’n whatever,” he gestured expansively around the room, indicating their hard won amity, Harry supposed, “But left to themselves they still go at it like cats in an alley, and not in a sexy way.” Draco made a retching sound but stopped at Harry’s quelling look. “One day it’s the house elves on the Wizengamot, then it’s centaur voting rights. But today he went too far. Go on then,” he nodded at Draco, “show him.”
Draco squinted at Ron, eyes promising retribution. He turned to Harry, blushed, and opened his mouth to say, “Pressure, pushing down on me,”
“What.”
“Pressing down on you, no man ask for,” Draco snapped his jaw shut with a click.
Harry turned wide eyes on Ron, “He didn’t.”
Ron nodded solemnly, “He knocked Queen.”
“Under pressure,” said Draco, mournfully.
6. Title: Studying
This was it and he knew it. James and Peter and even Remus couldn't stop joking around like O.W.L.s weren't shit, weren't anything, weren't this kind of life or death scenario that Sirius felt them to be. Still, he joined in on their fooling around to keep up appearances. Then he made some excuses about having detention in order to sneak away to the library to study. He needed to ace his O.W.L.s more than anything. If he got enough Os he could have any career he wanted. He wouldn't have to go back to his parents and be constantly reminded of what a disappointment he was to them. He wouldn't have to go home at all. That was his motivation and what more motivation did he need? If only he had thought to study the whole year, rather than the week before exams started. Then he might have had a chance to live out his dreams.
7. Title: Helping Harry
The candles had long since been blown out and the library was utterly deserted. Even Madame Pince had left for the night. Yawning hugely, Hermione rubbed her eyes groggily. She didn’t even know what time it was. She didn’t care. It’s not like she had any choice. Who else was going to stay up late trying to find ways for Harry to survive the Triwizard Tournament? Certainly not the Golden Boy in question who, as per usual, was more than content to barrel through life with reckless abandon. Hermione groaned in frustration, moving books gently aside so she could rest her weary head on the table for a moment. If she didn’t know any better, Hermione would have said that Harry was allergic to planning ahead. Honestly, the whole Tournament was really stressing her out. If Harry didn’t get his act together, this treacherous and ill-advised competition could be the death of him! Logically, Hermione knew that Harry’s preparedness (or lack thereof) wasn’t her responsibility but even so, Gryffindor’s resident bookworm just couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that she was failing him. An occupational hazard of being best friends with Harry Potter was doing your best to ensure he lived to see another day. Pity no one told you how hard that actually was.
8. Title: Oliver's Song
They were standing around the Quidditch Pitch, it was a cold, February morning and all that the Gryffindor Quidditch team wanted to do was to go back to bed. Apart from Oliver Wood, who stood there with a slightly manic grin on his face.
"Alright men, and women," he added - quickly looking over at his Chaser team. "This is it, we've trained hard, we've been under pressure, but there's still a way to go before our first game," he said, waving his hands about energetically.
"Oh no!" One of the twins moaned.
"He's going to do it!" The other one said, clutching at his head in mock distress. Harry looked questioningly at the pair - they were often a tad kooky, but not normally to this degree so early on.
Oliver rubbed his hands together quickly, before banishing everyone's brooms away to the shed. The first twin tried to stay on, being dragged away to the shed, before the girls grabbed hold of him and pulled him back. Their eyes seemed to say - if we're going through this then so are you.
Oliver motioned the group to start running around the pitch, taking up the front to make a fast enough pace to keep everyone alert. After the first lap, he shouted at the top of his lungs: "PRESSURE!" Harry almost tripped and fell in the mud, Katie's arm being the only thing from stopping the startled boy from going head first.
"PUSHING DOWN ON ME, PUSHING DOWN ON YOU," he continued, strangely in tune. He pointed at Alicia, who seemed to roll her eyes and cleared her throat to continue with the song - knowing to go along with her crazy captain.
Merlin only knew how Oliver Wood originally found the song 'Under Pressure'.
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