Ficlets, no challenge
Title: Finding Gold
Summary: A little bit of fun
Characters/Pairings: the Maraudders (because a friend loves them so much)
Genre: Gen
Rating/Warnings: G/None
Word Count: 263
“Sirius, are you sure we- we can add that in?” Peter stared nervously even as the finely grounded red powder was steadily poured into the lightly bubbling potion being stirred.
“Peter, it’s fine. He knows what he’s doing.” Jame's hand settled lightly onto his shoulder even as his other hand continued stirring the concoction with his wand tip.
“Remus?”
“It will be fine Peter, and if worse comes to worse, there will always be Nibbles,” he gestured at the grey rat twitching anxiously in its cage, “to try it on first.”
Peter’s eyes widened, no doubt sharing Nibbles’ apprehension.
Sirius remained uncharacteristically silent as he focused on getting the mixture to just the right frothy consistency.
“Are y-you sure muggles actually drink this? They actually add this- this ch-chili powder into chocolate drinks?”
“It’s spiced hot chocolate. I overheard some talking about it before the break, and it’s supposed to be fantastic.”
It was another fifteen minutes before they each held a goblet of the drink, and another three for Nibbles to drink up his thimbleful of sweet liquid. When the rat seemed to experience no adverse effect, the four wizard boys exchanged glances and simultaneously took their first gulp (Peter could not help it if his gulp was more of a small sip, and Remus readied in his mind certain spells that would force regurgitation should it prove necessary).
A moment of silence…
Sirius’s face practically split with a wide grin. “Well, for all the inconveniences of being without magic - those muggles can be bloody brilliant.”
James laughed. “Cheers - to liquid magic!”
Title: A Young Start
Summary: Gilderoy Lockhart wanted to fly.
Characters/Pairings: Gilderoy Lockhart
Genre: Gen
Rating/Warnings: G/None
Word Count: 485
“Lockhart!”
The golden, mop-haired child turned eagerly at the call. Stevens. Pendrager Stevens had just called his name. Enthused and eager to please, he jogged over as quickly as his lean legs would carry him.
Not yet grown into his body, he was a mismatched jumble of what would normally might have been average, even slightly handsome, features: blue eyes and a wide, white grin that were both too large for his narrow face, a strong jaw set into a child’s cheeks, a lean, lithe body but still short. At an age where most boys his age were finally edging out of the awkwardness of puberty gracefully, he remained an awkward fledgling.
No one notices the bird still struggling to rise off the ground while phoenixes - strong and flaming with newly born youth soared through the skies.
Panting and out of breath, he skidded to a stop, black robes flowing, in front of Pendrager Stevens - Quidditch hero and Prefect. Gilderoy Lockhart would not hesitate to admit this: he idolized Pendrager Stevens.
Said hero was critically eying his frame. “Lockhart, how would you feel about playing as a Seeker on our team? You have the right body for it, and Freddie’s out from our next match with - well, you don’t want to know why the entire north tower as been evacuated for the time being.”
“B-but…” He had never played, never even tried to be honest. Sure, he could fly, (who couldn’t?) but how would he do this?
“Good, our next practice is two days from now. Sunset. Quidditch pitch. Be there.” A wry smirk lifted the corner of Stevens’ mouth.
***
For the next two days, he could hardly sleep. Mostly because he practiced, in the dark of night - quietly, invisibly - chasing a ball of light he charmed to elude his every moment.
He flew in the dreams he had when sleeping through transfiguration (the assigned parchment he received as punishment hardly registered in his sleep-fogged, determined consciousness).
When the day came, his entire frame shook as the broomstick vibrated beneath him.
And he flew. He soared. He was perfect.
When practice ended, he knew. He knew that he was good. That everything was worth it. He turned excitedly to the rest of the team, eager for their praise, their reactions - their appreciation, but they all surrounded shining Stevens. Congratulating him on his ability to spot talent - calling him a natural coach to find such a replacement and train him so quickly and well before the next match.
And the illusion shattered - Gilderoy Lockhart fell back to Earth. None of it mattered, his work, his accomplishment. The accomplishment wasn’t worth the attention because he didn’t look like he was worth the attention.
Staring intensely at the distant jubilation, standing alone broomstick in one hand and the fluttering snitch in the other, he promised himself that this would be a lesson he would never forget.
Natalie//Gryffindor//5+10=15 points
(May I please get an author tag? I am a complete newbie. :D)
Summary: A little bit of fun
Characters/Pairings: the Maraudders (because a friend loves them so much)
Genre: Gen
Rating/Warnings: G/None
Word Count: 263
“Sirius, are you sure we- we can add that in?” Peter stared nervously even as the finely grounded red powder was steadily poured into the lightly bubbling potion being stirred.
“Peter, it’s fine. He knows what he’s doing.” Jame's hand settled lightly onto his shoulder even as his other hand continued stirring the concoction with his wand tip.
“Remus?”
“It will be fine Peter, and if worse comes to worse, there will always be Nibbles,” he gestured at the grey rat twitching anxiously in its cage, “to try it on first.”
Peter’s eyes widened, no doubt sharing Nibbles’ apprehension.
Sirius remained uncharacteristically silent as he focused on getting the mixture to just the right frothy consistency.
“Are y-you sure muggles actually drink this? They actually add this- this ch-chili powder into chocolate drinks?”
“It’s spiced hot chocolate. I overheard some talking about it before the break, and it’s supposed to be fantastic.”
It was another fifteen minutes before they each held a goblet of the drink, and another three for Nibbles to drink up his thimbleful of sweet liquid. When the rat seemed to experience no adverse effect, the four wizard boys exchanged glances and simultaneously took their first gulp (Peter could not help it if his gulp was more of a small sip, and Remus readied in his mind certain spells that would force regurgitation should it prove necessary).
A moment of silence…
Sirius’s face practically split with a wide grin. “Well, for all the inconveniences of being without magic - those muggles can be bloody brilliant.”
James laughed. “Cheers - to liquid magic!”
Title: A Young Start
Summary: Gilderoy Lockhart wanted to fly.
Characters/Pairings: Gilderoy Lockhart
Genre: Gen
Rating/Warnings: G/None
Word Count: 485
“Lockhart!”
The golden, mop-haired child turned eagerly at the call. Stevens. Pendrager Stevens had just called his name. Enthused and eager to please, he jogged over as quickly as his lean legs would carry him.
Not yet grown into his body, he was a mismatched jumble of what would normally might have been average, even slightly handsome, features: blue eyes and a wide, white grin that were both too large for his narrow face, a strong jaw set into a child’s cheeks, a lean, lithe body but still short. At an age where most boys his age were finally edging out of the awkwardness of puberty gracefully, he remained an awkward fledgling.
No one notices the bird still struggling to rise off the ground while phoenixes - strong and flaming with newly born youth soared through the skies.
Panting and out of breath, he skidded to a stop, black robes flowing, in front of Pendrager Stevens - Quidditch hero and Prefect. Gilderoy Lockhart would not hesitate to admit this: he idolized Pendrager Stevens.
Said hero was critically eying his frame. “Lockhart, how would you feel about playing as a Seeker on our team? You have the right body for it, and Freddie’s out from our next match with - well, you don’t want to know why the entire north tower as been evacuated for the time being.”
“B-but…” He had never played, never even tried to be honest. Sure, he could fly, (who couldn’t?) but how would he do this?
“Good, our next practice is two days from now. Sunset. Quidditch pitch. Be there.” A wry smirk lifted the corner of Stevens’ mouth.
***
For the next two days, he could hardly sleep. Mostly because he practiced, in the dark of night - quietly, invisibly - chasing a ball of light he charmed to elude his every moment.
He flew in the dreams he had when sleeping through transfiguration (the assigned parchment he received as punishment hardly registered in his sleep-fogged, determined consciousness).
When the day came, his entire frame shook as the broomstick vibrated beneath him.
And he flew. He soared. He was perfect.
When practice ended, he knew. He knew that he was good. That everything was worth it. He turned excitedly to the rest of the team, eager for their praise, their reactions - their appreciation, but they all surrounded shining Stevens. Congratulating him on his ability to spot talent - calling him a natural coach to find such a replacement and train him so quickly and well before the next match.
And the illusion shattered - Gilderoy Lockhart fell back to Earth. None of it mattered, his work, his accomplishment. The accomplishment wasn’t worth the attention because he didn’t look like he was worth the attention.
Staring intensely at the distant jubilation, standing alone broomstick in one hand and the fluttering snitch in the other, he promised himself that this would be a lesson he would never forget.
Natalie//Gryffindor//5+10=15 points
(May I please get an author tag? I am a complete newbie. :D)