Thanksgiving Trouble/Tryptophan/Leftovers
Title: Thanksgiving Trouble
House: Gryffindor
Word Count: 100 according to Word
Characters: Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, the Weasleys
Rating: PG for language
Challenge: Challenge # 185 Thanksgiving
Author's Notes: Set in the Burrow
"Ronald Weasley, for the last time, hands off!”
“I just wanted…”
“Ron, come on mate! Stop that!”
“Harry, make him stop!”
“Ow!”
“Sorry…”
“Get your hands off my knee!”
“That was my nose, you prat!”
“Wait, we have to put that on before we…”
“Sod off, mate.”
“Hey, bugger off!”
“I want a little taste of that!”
“Ooohh… this is going to be so good Hermione!”
“Stop, stop, stop the lot of you! Ginevra, stop wiggling like that! Gred, Feorge, I mean, you twins! You will cease at this very instant!”
“I didn’t realize preparing turkey was this difficult, Hermione.”
Title: Tryptophan
House: Gryffindor
Word Count: 100 according to Word
Characters: The Order of the Phoenix
Rating: PG for character death
Challenge: Challenge # 185 Thanksgiving
Author's Notes: Post book 7
Ron was slumped over the couch, snoring softly with his hand over his bulging middle. Arthur, Molly, Bill, and Fleur were finishing the champagne in front of the fireplace. Moody sipped his pumpkin juice and grumbled constantly to Tonks, who was busy munching on an apple charmed to change from gold to red then green every three seconds, matching her hair.
Hagrid stood up with his tankard of ale, aided by Madame Maxime. Weeping, he began, “To Harry, to Dumbledore, to Charlie, to Sirius, to Remus…the saviors of the wizarding world.”
Hermione smiled. The turkey’s tryptophan would comfort them tonight.
Title: Leftovers
House: Gryffindor
Word Count: 100 according to Word
Character: Molly Weasley
Rating: G
Challenge: Challenge # 185 Thanksgiving
One by one, they bade me farewell as I handed them bags of food to eat in the following days. They smiled, said their thanks, promised to write, kissed me on the cheek, and then they were gone.
I dumped the turkey on the stock pot and watched it boil. After three hours, I fished out the meat and mixed them with the noodles and spare vegetables. I watched the soup cook and took out a bowl.
I ate in silence, in the company of leftovers, with only the soup to keep me company in the bitter winter months ahead.
House: Gryffindor
Word Count: 100 according to Word
Characters: Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, the Weasleys
Rating: PG for language
Challenge: Challenge # 185 Thanksgiving
Author's Notes: Set in the Burrow
"Ronald Weasley, for the last time, hands off!”
“I just wanted…”
“Ron, come on mate! Stop that!”
“Harry, make him stop!”
“Ow!”
“Sorry…”
“Get your hands off my knee!”
“That was my nose, you prat!”
“Wait, we have to put that on before we…”
“Sod off, mate.”
“Hey, bugger off!”
“I want a little taste of that!”
“Ooohh… this is going to be so good Hermione!”
“Stop, stop, stop the lot of you! Ginevra, stop wiggling like that! Gred, Feorge, I mean, you twins! You will cease at this very instant!”
“I didn’t realize preparing turkey was this difficult, Hermione.”
Title: Tryptophan
House: Gryffindor
Word Count: 100 according to Word
Characters: The Order of the Phoenix
Rating: PG for character death
Challenge: Challenge # 185 Thanksgiving
Author's Notes: Post book 7
Ron was slumped over the couch, snoring softly with his hand over his bulging middle. Arthur, Molly, Bill, and Fleur were finishing the champagne in front of the fireplace. Moody sipped his pumpkin juice and grumbled constantly to Tonks, who was busy munching on an apple charmed to change from gold to red then green every three seconds, matching her hair.
Hagrid stood up with his tankard of ale, aided by Madame Maxime. Weeping, he began, “To Harry, to Dumbledore, to Charlie, to Sirius, to Remus…the saviors of the wizarding world.”
Hermione smiled. The turkey’s tryptophan would comfort them tonight.
Title: Leftovers
House: Gryffindor
Word Count: 100 according to Word
Character: Molly Weasley
Rating: G
Challenge: Challenge # 185 Thanksgiving
One by one, they bade me farewell as I handed them bags of food to eat in the following days. They smiled, said their thanks, promised to write, kissed me on the cheek, and then they were gone.
I dumped the turkey on the stock pot and watched it boil. After three hours, I fished out the meat and mixed them with the noodles and spare vegetables. I watched the soup cook and took out a bowl.
I ate in silence, in the company of leftovers, with only the soup to keep me company in the bitter winter months ahead.