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Last Author Standing - Entries v.2



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Old July 18th, 2010, 3:36 am
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Last Author Standing - Entries v.2

Round 1, Week 1

LAST AUTHOR STANDING

Topic: Arthur Weasley comes home to find that one of his Muggle artifacts has gained a mind of its own and has taken over his shed/garage. Describe how he regains control of his garage.

Entry #1

Odd Ball Out

Arthur Weasley walked down the narrow streets of Ottery St. Catchpole with an easy, loping gait. He clutched the straps of his battered leather satchel tightly to his chest and nodded amiably to passersby as he made his way across the ancient cobblestones. He wore a threadbare tweed jacket over a rumpled collared shirt and a tie that was at least ten seasons out of fashion. The Weasley trademark mop of brilliant red hair was thinning atop his head and his manner, while still spry, was a bit slower as age finally began to catch up with him.

He loved walking amid the muggles. His old job at the Ministry of Magic had allowed him to come close among them and he remained absolutely amazed at their ingenuity and perseverance. Retirement had since taken him away from that life and these sojourns into the village to gawk and shop were priceless reminders of just how much he enjoyed the company and presence of muggles.

He turned a corner and came to a dead end street of houses. At the far end, there appeared to be a derelict house on an overgrown lot. A sign outside the fence of the property proclaimed that the area had been condemned and designated as a protected zone where no construction was allowed. The rumor among the neighbors was that an ancient Celtic burial ground was on the land and had to be protected by the local government. Arthur knew it for what it was. Despite appearances, Arthur Weasley was a powerful wizard and the outer façade was actually a very intricate glamour designed to hide his family home, the Burrow.

He walked through the battered gate and found himself in the middle of a small courtyard, looking directly at his house. It was an astounding structure, of indeterminate height. It looked like floors had been built in a haphazard fashion, one on top of the other, and held together by some mystical force which defied conventions such as stress and gravity. The design of the home had been out of necessity, as Arthur and Molly’s family grew at a prodigious rate. Arthur smiled as he stared at the door. Already, he could hear the boisterous laughter of children. Molly seemed busier in their retirement than when he’d been working and for good reason. Their seven, Arthur hesitated for the millionth time. Fred was no longer with them. Their six children had families of their own and Molly tended to the grandchildren while their parents worked. The house was busier than when it had just been the six boys and one daughter.

He took a step towards the house and then stopped, at once fearful and then excited as he remembered the bag on his shoulder. He turned abruptly on his heel and walked towards the small garage at the side of the house. He looked around and then spun the tumblers on an old combination lock attached to a latch on the side door. After a moment, he popped the lock and walked into his workshop. He barely could maneuver his tall frame through the stacks of items strewn throughout the place. Absently, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a battery he’d found during his trip through the town. He set it down next to a pile of carefully stacked batteries, one more addition to his collection. He padded the side of his bag and walked further back into the room.

In the back corner, there was a dusty curtain that separated the rear quarter of the garage from the rest. He pulled back the curtain and walked in the small room. It was, surprisingly, clutter free. In the center of the room was Arthur’s pride and joy. It was a seven by four foot billiards table. It was his pride and joy. Over the years, he’d been putting it together, gathering the items he needed to make it work. It was framed in maple, but had lost a leg. Arthur had replaced it with the leg from a mannequin he’d found in the ruins of an old lingerie store. The green felt to was faded and worn in spots and the pockets were a hodgepodge of tin cans, buckets and baskets. He’d found sticks, a rack and most of the balls. On the table was an assortment of billiard balls, fourteen of them with a grayish white cue ball. The only thing he was missing had been an eight ball. Until today, that was. He reached into this satchel and pulled out a chipped eight ball and placed it down on the felt.

At once, he knew something was wrong. The ball was four times as big as the others and it didn’t roll. It was flat on the bottom. Curiously, Arthur picked it up and studied its flattened portion. There was a small window with bluish black liquid. Arthur scratched his head.

“What in Merlin’s name is this?” He said to no one in particular.

At that precise moment, a white triangle appeared in the window. It had words on it. Arthur leaned down to read them.

“Reply hazy, try again.”

Arthur stood dumbfounded. It was if the eight ball knew that he’d spoken. He swallowed hard and asked a question.

“What are you? Are you some sort of magical instrument?” He asked.

He shook the ball and stared at the window.

“Signs point to yes.” Arthur thought furiously. Signs? He shook the ball and nearly shouted the next question.

“You’re a seer? You can predict the future?”

The liquid gurgled and the eight ball’s response came out. “Yes, definitely.”

Arthur looked around and then looked at the ball. “You know why I’m out here, don’t you? You know why I don’t want to go into the house.”

There was silence as he turned the ball over. “Yes.”

“It’s because of Molly, isn’t it?” Arthur and Molly’s anniversary was coming up and he’d still not gotten anything for her. He’d meant to, but either the gift wasn’t right or the timing was off. Now, he was almost a day away and he’d still not found anything. It was what had precipitated his journey into town in the first place. As usual, he’d gotten distracted by muggle things and now he felt guilty. He’d bought this eight ball and not a gift, like he’d planned. He stared at the ball. The ground began to shake and the shades pulled tight over the windows. His muggle artifacts were raining down on him and he held the eight ball tightly in his outstretched arms. “I’ll be okay, right?”

“Don’t count on it.” Arthur cringed. Of course he’d be in trouble. Oh, Molly wouldn’t say anything. She’d be splendid about it, but he’d know she was disappointed and nothing made him feel worse than disappointing his wife. Desperately, he looked back at the ball.

The garage shook even more violently, whole shelves turned over dumping vacuum cleaner parts, legos and various other gadgets and trinkets all about. The balls on the pool table rolled back and forth, as if they were on the deck of a wildly gyrating ship. A canister of ball bearings fell to the floor and rolled towards him and it was all Arthur could do to prevent his feet from slipping from underneath him and falling to the floor.

He looked back to the eight ball. “Wait! I still have time, don’t I?” He asked. It seemed like an eternity, but the answer finally came.

“As I see it, yes.”

He studied the ball. Amazingly, the garage became still. How the muggles had created this type of magic astounded him. He shook his head. “You’re some type of magic eight ball, aren’t you?”

“Without a doubt.”

Arthur sighed and smiled. “I’ll go out and get her gift this instant.” He placed the ball down and then reconsidered and picked it up. “You have an amazing ability, eight ball. Can I keep you?”

“My reply is no.”

Arthur felt down, and nodded his head. “I understand. You’re for muggles, after all.” He sighed. “What will happen to me?”

“Cannot predict now.”

Arthur nodded. “Of course, it’s up to me, isn’t it?”

“Without a doubt.”

Arthur scooped up the ball and headed out the door, his mind spinning about what gift he should buy Molly. He’d return the eight ball, but only after he took it with him to shop for Molly’s gift. After all, one could not be too careful and why not have an ace in the hole when selecting the perfect gift for your wife? Why not have, the magic eight ball?

“What do you think?” Arthur asked expectantly.

“Don’t count on it.”

Arthur felt a little down but his shoulders squared up and he nodded. “Of course, I have to pick her gift on my own. Well thought, eight ball.” He made his way back towards the flea market on the other side of the village. The stall with the old lady whom he purchased the eight ball from was still there. She was hunched over her stool, mumbling to herself. She was ancient, her wrinkles had wrinkles. She had a hooked nose with a large wart on the end that had spindly white hairs growing out of it. Her eyes were large and black and when she laughed, most of her teeth were missing while those that remained were a dark shade of tan. She saw him coming.

“Not the right type of eight ball?” She rasped.

Arthur shook his head. “It was fine, but it didn’t fit my collection.”

The lady nodded and reached beneath the counter. She drew out a normal sized, billiard eight ball. “Perhaps this will work?”

Arthur nodded rapidly and took the gift. He was so excited, he turned for home, then stopped. His eyes on the magic eight ball resting on the counter. “Excuse me, can you point me to where the nearest jewelry store is?”

The lady smiled her toothless smile and pointed down the row. “About a block down, there’s a shop called Esmerelda’s. Word to the wise, there’s a nice ivory cameo there that any wife would die for.” The old lady winked and Arthur smiled, bounding down the rows towards the shop. The old lady’s shoulders shook from her laughter, and she grasped the eight ball, rolling it in her hands.

“Technically, you’re breaking the law.” The voice was strong and resonant and came from behind her. There was a man at the back entrance, his shoulder leaning against the door with his arms crossed in front of him. She took a deep breath, more of a gasp. He was solidly built, with friendly features. He wore a blue tee shirt and jeans and smiled at her with a twinkle in his brilliant viridian eyes. His hair was unruly, but everything seemed to be in the right place, even the round glasses perched upon the bridge of his nose. After all this time, Harry Potter still got to her.

The old lady smiled and as she stood, her body underwent a quick transformation, the old lady seemed to melt into the figure of a vibrant, beautiful woman. She had long, red hair that bounced around her shoulders. Her brown eyes danced with amusement and seemed to reflect off the freckles on her face. She had an athletic grace about her and when she smiled at him, Harry felt his knees buckle slightly.

“What do you mean, I’m not breaking the law.” She said playfully.

Harry stood straight. “Transfiguration around muggles is magic around muggles, although, I think we can let slide just this once, since it was all for a good cause.” He put an arm around his wife. “Besides, you looked rather fetching with that wart on your nose, you think you could keep it?”

Ginny reached back and smacked him on the back of the head. “You watch it or I’ll put warts on places you don’t want to even think about.”

He held up hands in surrender. “I hope your mother appreciates the effort you went to.”

“She does. She’s really had her heart set on that cameo.” Ginny said as they walked out the door, holding hands. She smiled and looked up at him. “You know what? Our anniversary is just around the corner, do you want a hint or should we…”

She reached into the folds of her dress and pulled out the eight ball, “just consult the magic eight ball?” The ground shook slightly and she winked at him. Together they laughed and headed for home.



Last edited by Lord Godric; July 18th, 2010 at 3:41 am.
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Old July 18th, 2010, 3:39 am
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Re: Last Author Standing - Entries v.2

LAST AUTHOR STANDING

Topic: Arthur Weasley comes home to find that one of his Muggle artifacts has gained a mind of its own and has taken over his shed/garage. Describe how he regains control of his garage.

Entry #2

Arthur and the Workshop

Wispy bits of smoke were just visible rising from the chimneys of the row houses that lined the street as the day was drawing to a close. The evening fog had started to float in and take residence several feet above the crowded cobblestone streets. They were uncharacteristically busy this cool late winter evening.

“Muggles are everywhere tonight,” Arthur mumbled as he made his way down the street having just finished up a compliant at a local fuel station. “It will be difficult to find a place to apparate,” he thought to himself.

“Oh Excuse Me!” a young muggle woman blurted unceremoniously while making her way past Arthur and his casual pace. “Not to worry Madam,” Arthur replied as she hurried past, several of her full designer shopping bags hitting him in the side as she did. Arthur grunted, taken slightly aback and gazed in the muggle woman’s direction. She was talking into one of those muggle devices that allowed you to talk to any other muggle who happened to have one. “I really must get my hands on one of those someday,” Arthur noted rather intrigued, his eyes following the woman who was now halfway down the next block.

It was then that Arthur saw a solution to his apparition problem. Halfway down the next block was one of those modern muggle toilets in the middle of the street. He had used one a few years ago in London. Surely that would give him some privacy. Arthur increased his pace, becoming slightly giddy in the process, and made his way to the door of the muggle toilet. He reached into his pocket and placed two one pound coins in the slot. “I always knew that there were advantages to carrying muggle coins,” he grinned, turned the lever, and stepped inside. As soon as the door closed a loud crack sound emanated from Arthur’s position and he was gone.

A few hundred miles away Arthur reappeared, although his surroundings were quite different. Gone were the busy bustling streets crowded with muggles and their fascinating gadgets. An empty field of long grass with the sound of what the muggles called crickets had replaced it. The fog and wispy bits of smoke rising from the chimney of a building just ahead remained, however. Arthur’s rather amused smile was replaced with a smile of being happy to be home as he made his short way up the path to the Burrow.

An odd mechanical humming followed several clangs became more and more apparent as he made his way up the path. Light from the Burrow’s windows spilled onto the path leading to the rear door of the house near the kitchen. Arthur could see several pots stirring themselves atop the stove. Arthur went to grab for the door handle.

Before he could react, the rear kitchen door flew open with a loud thud, the fragrance of cooking food rushing past him. Arthur hastily went for his wand in an automatic reaction as a large round figure filled the doorway.

“Arthur!” the round woman shouted in a stern yet concerned voice. “Where have you been?” a slight bit of frustration now accompanying her voice. “Dinner is almost ready, and something has taken control of your workshop.” The sound of the humming and clanging was now quite loud. Arthur could see several round welts on her forehead.

“Sorry Molly,” Arthur explained, loosening his grip on his wand. “Someone had confounded a muggle fuel station pump to spray muggles with oil as they approached the cashier to pay. It took us some time to fix the problem. Perkins was still trying to clean oil off from himself when I left. What is wrong with the workshop?”

“That sounds messy,” Molly grimaced, her tone softening slightly. “I’m glad you are home. I’m not sure what is happening with the workshop. The boys and I, all took turns having a look, but as soon as we opened the door, we were pelted with burning muggle coins. I thought it was best to have you look at it.”

Arthur now realized that the humming and clanging was not coming from the house itself. “I’ll go take a look at it,” he sighed, smiling coyly, and stepped into the doorway. “How long will it be until dinner is ready?”

“About 20 minutes,” her grimace turning to a slight smile as she leaned toward Arthur pecking him lightly on the lips before returning to the bubbling pots on the stove.

“I’ll try to be a quick as possible,” Arthur answered, closed the door, and made his way around the corner of the building to his workshop.

The workshop sat just beyond the house, was small, made of almost loosely constructed aged wood, but was large enough to fit a small muggle car along with Arthur’s collection of many other muggle finds throughout the years. A small orange glow grew out from the bottom of the metal entry door. The mechanical humming was now so overpowering that it was almost unbearable. Arthur drew his wand from his overcoat pocket and commanded the door to open. Nothing happened. He tried again, but again he was left without a result. He next tried to push the latch with his wand, but the latch refused to move.

Against his better judgment, he grasped the handle and slowly opened the door; just enough so he could see what was going on. The orange glow that escaped the bottom of the door now filled a thin vertical portion of Arthur’s face. What Arthur saw was completely exciting, but also a bit terrifying. A coin counter machine that Arthur had picked up in a muggle bank several weeks ago had taken position upon the workbench. Every several seconds it would fling several muggle coins toward the rickety metal door at an unimaginable speed. The coins would make an audible clang, not to mention a slight dent in the door, and then fall to the ground where they would line up as though they were part of a military regiment. The coins already in formation were humming a structured song almost like a battle tune. Arthur was fascinated by the precision and organization of the operation.

Arthur grasped opened the door a bit more, slid his wand into the crack, aimed at the coin counter machine, and shot several counter curses in its direction. The humming turned into a wailing and before Arthur knew it, the coin counter machine had launched two coins through the crack, hitting Arthur on the nose. Arthur recoiled, and the coins fell toward the ground, the Queen’s face on the coins, laughing at him. The coins evaporated as they hit the ground outside the shop. He shot several more counter curses through the cracks, even one that flooded the floor of the shop, each of them ineffective as the next. Arthur rubbed his now burning nose, and closed the door.

“Hmmm,” Arthur thought to himself, now a bit bewildered. “It would seem that the coins don’t exist outside the workshop.” Arthur rubbed his a bit more as he formulated a solution. He paced back and forth past the door several times. The humming had now turned to laughing. A grin slowly grew upon Arthur’s face. He knew now how to beat the squatters in his workshop.

Arthur crept around the back side of his workshop to the wall that was directly behind the workbench. He peeked through the crack between two worn boards and saw the backside of the coin dispenser. “Perfect,” Arthur mumbled in an almost mischievous way. He cast a charm to bring silence around him, and loosened the nails holding on the two boards with his wand. He pried off the two boards and set them to the side. The coin machine had not noticed what he had done. The machine was within arm’s reach. Arthur used his wand to check for traps, then without hesitation grabbed the machine pulled it out of the workshop and threw it to the ground, his hand searing with pain. The laughter from the shop turned to gasps. The machine tried to shoot coins in his direction, but they evaporated as soon as they were shot. Arthur shot a counter curse at the coin machine and it exploded into fire ball like bits that vanished as they hit the ground. The sound and orange glow from the workshop disappeared. The sound of crickets was now all that filled the evening air “You would think after all of these years, I would have learned my lesson collecting these muggle things,” Arthur mused to himself while he made his way back to the rear kitchen door, shaking his now burned hand.

As Arthur sat down for dinner, he looked around the table and noticed that everyone at the table had their share of coin shaped welts. “Thank you for all of your help today with the workshop. I guess that I will have to be a bit more careful on which muggle items I bring home,” Arthur said as they tucked into dinner.


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Old July 18th, 2010, 3:41 am
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Re: Last Author Standing - Entries v.2

LAST AUTHOR STANDING

Topic: There were two other girls in Harry's year in Gryffindor. Choose a specific event/events and write in one or both of the girls POV.

Entry #1

“I’ve your essays on silencing charms. I am happy to note many of you did extremely well,” Professor Flitwick spoke towards the end of class.

I sighed. Many in the class may have done well, but I knew I was not one of them. I don’t think I’ve ever made an O on an essay in my life. It wasn’t for a lack of trying. I tried harder than anyone and that included Hermione Granger. She always knew the answer for everything. I studied twice as hard as her and still didn’t know the answer to half the stuff we went over. She once asked if she could tutor me, but I told her not to waste her time. I was a hopeless case.

“…Nina Carter.”

I looked up. Most of the Gryffindors were smiling at me. The other half looked happy, too. Why did Professor Flitwick say my name? They were probably all happy they weren’t the ones to receive the lowest grade. Glancing at the front row, I noticed Hermione looked completely perturbed.

“You did it!” Lavender Brown, sitting next to me, patted my arm.

Lavender usually sat with Parvati Patil, her best friend, but they got in a fight over something stupid, so today she chose to sit with me.

“Did what?” I asked.

“Received a better score than Hermione, than anyone!”

“H-how do you know? Flitwick hasn’t handed back the essays and you don’t even know Hermione’s grade. It’s probably off the charts as usual.”

Lavender shook her head.

“Always in the clouds, you. Did you not hear him? He said your essay was the most improved and received the highest grade in class. That means I know you did better than Hermione no matter what her grade is.”

Flitwick passed back our essays. Once the parchment was in my hands I stared at it. On top next to my name was a big fat red O. O for Outstanding. It was beautiful.



“Congratulations,” Hermione said begrudgingly that night in our dormitory. She turned down her bed, ready to climb in.

“Thanks.” I already lay in bed and was about to close my curtains.

“You think you could tutor me?”

“What?” I nearly fell out of bed.

“Tutor me. Tell me what I did wrong in my essay.”

“I don’t know.”

“You did something right to get the highest grade in class. I would like your help.”

Lavender and Parvati, having made up earlier in the day, giggled together.

“I can’t help you.”

“That’s what Ron said.”

“What? I know I’m not that smart, but I’m not stupid! What does that lazy git know anyway?”

“No, that’s not what he meant. He thinks I’m nutters for worrying about this. I must have done something wrong. I looked over my essay a hundred times. I thought it was perfect. I don’t know what I did wrong.”

She was on the brink of tears. I’d never known anyone so obsessed with grades and perfection before.

“Maybe I need to spend as much time in the library as you. You’re there all the time.”

“So are you.”

“Not as much you.”

That was true. But, she didn’t need to be. I spent that time just to maintain a passing grade.

“You don’t need to be,” I said out loud. “You’re smart. You’re the smartest witch in the entire school. You’re the smartest witch I’ve ever met.”

Hermione blushed.

“There’s nothing I can help you with. I don’t know how I received the highest grade in class today. I worked my tail off and it was just one of those times where it all came together. Next time it will be you like it always is.”

“You think so? You don’t think the tides have turned? Maybe I spend too much time saving Harry.”

“Do you want to give that up?”

She shook her head.

“I can’t do that!”

“Right. The tides haven’t turned. On our next assignment you’ll get a higher grade than me. It’s almost guaranteed.”

“Can I look at your essay? Just to compare?”

I climbed out of bed and dug my essay out of my backpack. Hermione placed it next to hers already lying on her bed.

“I knew I should have gone for a few more inches,” she muttered.

I laughed silently while closing my curtains. Hermione wrote the longest and most detailed essays of anyone in the school. There was no way she could add anything else, I was certain.

Wrapping my covers around me, burying my head into my pillow, and closing my eyes I thought about the event of the day. All my hard work paid off. I was truly happy for that. I received my first O on an essay ever. I did better than the smartest witch of my age. She was jealousy of me, I could tell. It truly was one of the greatest days of my life.



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Old July 25th, 2010, 5:03 am
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Re: Last Author Standing - Entries v.2

Round 1, Week 2

LAST AUTHOR STANDING

Topic: Harry and Ginny's first real date (After the Battle of Hogwarts).

Entry #1

Ginny Weasley stood outside Hogsmeade. This was her first enjoyable weekend outside school since last year. She was definitely going to enjoy this trip.

All summer, she wanted to meet with Harry Potter. She missed him greatly when he skipped school to search for the Horcruxes. Ginny believed that since Voldemort was done with, and his quest was done, Harry and she would be together at last. Unfortunately, the new Ministry "needed" his help, so he went along. Then, when her last year at Hogwarts started, Ginny later thought that he would come back to take his seventh year, like his best friend Hermione Granger, but, no, he decided to start his Auror training, as he felt that he needed to help people.

He still hasn't learned that he couldn't save everyone, thought Ginny.

Then, in October, good news came to Ginny. One, Hogsmeade weekend trips were coming up. Two, and the better of them, came from a Ministry Owl. She held the note tightly in her hands. She kept opening her hand to read the note over and over again.

Ginny,

I want to see you again. I finally got a break from training. Meet me at Hogsmeade.

Harry

She had been waiting for about hour now. The cold October wind swept through the village and grounds, lifting her soft, red hair in the air. Ginny was freezing and impatient.

"Off to save someone else yet again," she said under her breath, as she headed off to the village, trying to find her friends.

"Yes, you, in fact."

Ginny came to a complete halt, then turned around to see the man she had waited for so very long.

Harry Potter still had the same black untidy hair, the same green eyes, but her still felt different to Ginny. The training must have taken affect on him. Harry was no longer skinny, but more built. He had more scars on him besides the lightning shaped one on his forehead. But he was still handsome to her. She ran to meet him face to face. Harry opened his arms to hug her, but Ginny wasn't ready yet.

"You don't know how much I've missed and waited for you! I waited for you at school, at home, during the summer, even now..."

Harry whose arms were still out, looked back into Ginny's angry eyes. Ginny was still frustrated with his disappearance, but she couldn't stay mad at him. Her eyes relaxed as she opened her arms and put them around Harry, he doing the same.

"I know, Ginny, but even though Voldemort(Ginny tried to hold it back, but she still winced a little bit. Harry ignored it) is gone, I still have to protect wizards and Muggles."

"Harry, that's noble of you, but a bit annoyi...."

They let go of each other, and Harry put his finger to his mouth, quieting Ginny.

"That's enough. We are finally together, and I want to enjoy this. Don't you?" She nodded her head. "Good, then let's go."

He extended his hand out to Ginny, who grabbed it and walked with Harry into Hogsmeade. She didn't know where she was going.

They walked by Madam Puddifoot's. She scowled at the thought of going inside, as it was too cheesy for her, and it was where Harry took Cho Chang. To her relief, they walked past. They kept walking throughout Hogsmeade until they were out of the village and outside the grounds where the Shrieking Shack was visible. All of a sudden, Madam Puddifoot's didn't sound like a bad idea to Ginny.

"Ginny, close your eyes and hold out your hand."

She did as she was told. She wanted to know what Harry got her. However, it wasn't a present, it was his hand. Ginny then felt like she was being sucked into a rubber tube. They had just Apparated.

After that feeling came over her, Harry told her to open her eyes. Ginny was in a different town. She panicked, and wondered what the teachers would've thought her leaving the school. Harry seemed to have noticed.

"It's okay, I've got permission. Besides, even if I didn't, what fun would it be without risk?"

"Still a Gryffindor out of school," she replied. Ginny turned toward a statue of a family. A father and mother were holding a baby together. What really stuck out was the fact that the father had Harry's hair and the mother had Harry's eyes. All of a sudden, Ginny realized where they were.

"Harry, you brought me to...."

Harry nodded. He took Ginny Weasley to Godric's Hollow. Ginny eyes widened with fascination. She is finally going to see Harry's true home. She grabbed Harry's hand and dragged him along the whole town, asking him questions about what he knew. Harry didn't seem to mind, as he told Ginny everthing he did know when he last came here.

He took her to the graveyard, and showed his parents graves, along with Dumbledore's and the Peverell. Ginny thought she also saw a grave with Abbott's name on it. If she ever saw Hannah Abbott again, she would ask her about it.

Harry then took her over to the house where he used to live until that fateful Halloween. Ginny looked at it with awe. When she got closer, she read some graffiti on the sign, all wishing Harry luck. She took out her wand and wrote "Congratulations" over all messages. Harry beamed and looked lovingly into her eyes. He didn't speak, but Ginny could tell that he was thanking her.

After taking a tour of the town, they later found a resturant. They both sat down and talked about their lives after the war. Harry talked about his Auror training, and his helping of reshaping the Ministry. Ginny talked about studying her NEWTS, and becoming the Gryffindor Team captain. She also talked about how she got a letter from Gwenog Jones, her favorite Quidditch player, about how she heard of her talents and wanting her to tryout for the Holyhead Harpies team after her time at Hogwarts was done. They kept talking on and on until Harry looked at his watch, which Ginny recognized as the one her mother gave to him. She thought it was sweet of him to still keep it.

"I have to get you back. Ginny, it has been a wonderful time, but you know with my training that these days together are limited, and I probably won't see you for a long time."

Ginny knew this was coming. Yet again, as soon as she got close to Harry, he would have to leave.

"Harry, I know. But I still will be waiting for you."

"Thanks. Just promise me one thing."

"Yes?"

"Be a bit more patient."

Ginny laughed as they held hands, walked out of the resturant, and apparated back to Hogsmeade.

As soon as they got back, Harry let go her hand, and was about to leave.

"Wait. One more thing, Harry. Your turn to close your eyes."

Harry stood still and did what he was told. Ginny walked toward him, gave him a huge hug, and then kissed Harry. Harry's eyes were still closed, but she returned the kiss back. They ended and backed away from each other.

"See you soon, Ginny."

With that, Harry apparated out of Hogsmeade, and Ginny went straight to Hogwarts. As she entered Gryffindor Tower and her bed, Arnold, her pet pygmy puff, hurried onto Ginny's shoulder and nuzzled her cheek, as if he hasn't seen her in a long time and wa glad to see her again. Ginny laughed.

"Oh Arnold, I know just how you feel." She put Arnold into a little bed that she created for him, and she then went to sleep, replaying the moments she just had in her dreams.


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Old July 25th, 2010, 5:05 am
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Re: Last Author Standing - Entries v.2

LAST AUTHOR STANDING

Topic: Harry and Ginny's first real date (After the Battle of Hogwarts).

Entry #2

The long expected, or rather, the long-hoped-for day had come at last. She was sitting face to face with Harry. Nothing separating them but the simple wooden table, bearing two cups of coffee and a plate with cake. It was a heavenly feeling after being separated from him with hundreds of miles and unknown dangers and perils. Not to mention an inevitable feeling of a horrifying end.

They sat silent, both in deep reflection. After a long time, Ginny ventured to say, "I never thought this day would come,"

"I had moments of doubt too, Ginny. But sometimes I felt so sure that we will be united one day.." Harry said, looking up at her.

"That's hardly what I meant." She said smiling, "But, not unlike you, I sometimes felt we will get together..", she continued, "I meant this day Harry, today. It's been a long time since, you know, it was all over. But you kept your distance that I thought, you had met a Veela," she said the last words in a rather sarcastic tone.

Harry gave a short laugh, "I assure you I hadn't," then in a rather sad tone, "I just didn't want to ask you out, when we were still grieving, or rather mourning, because we'll always grieve at our loss."

Ginny nodded, "I know what you mean. These tables,.." she inconspicuously pointed toward a nearby table occupied by muggles (for they were in a muggle coffee shop not far away from the Burrow),"These tables, I'd rather have seen filled with more familiar faces,"

Harry sighed as he stretched his hand across the table, and took her hand in his,"They are happy Ginny, just as we are." he said that in a tone of certainty. A moment of silence preceded, then Ginny asked suddenly, "Are you happy, Harry?"

"I am, Ginny. I'm with you. Everything is safe. We no longer are in danger."

"You are with me now. Now and then. But you can go away, any time you wish. You do actually go, sometimes a whole day.. From morning to dusk. You can leave,"

Ginny struggled to make her point, and Harry finally, understanding what she was at, said, "Oh, Ginny, I though this was plain and obvious enough. There's nothing to keep us from doing it." he pulled out the pockets of his pants, and his hands came out empty. Both he and Ginny had left their wands at the Burrow, for Harry had said that there'll be no need for them, they were safe from wizards as well as muggles. He went on, his green eyes fixed on Ginny's hazel ones, "I mean to marry you, Ginny, after school is finished, so long as you would accept."

"Um, this needs some reflection," Ginny, now relieved, said in mock solemnity.

They both laughed, and Ginny put her other hand in Harry's, "Yes, Harry, we'll get married, and we'll have lovely children, and..."

And so, they went on discussing matters related to their finishing school, their future marriage. Where they would settle, what they would do with their lives after Hogwarts. Both discussed their hopes, their ambitions in this new life opened in front of them, after darkness, loss and despair.

The two cups of coffee were now emptied. Ginny and Harry were ready to leave. Harry almost threw silver knuts into the waitress' hand. Then, he pulled muggle money out of the other pocket and hurried out of the little coffee shop hand in hand with Ginny. The young woman, there, looked after them with suspicion.

They had a nice walk back to the Burrow. It was a fine warm day in the beginings of June, the sun shone on the village's narrow streets. Flowers smiling and blushing everywhere. As simple as it was, it seemed more than beautiful in their eyes.

They had almost reached the Burrow, when Harry suddenly cried sharply, "Aside, Ginny"
She stepped aside, but sought for her wand -which wasn't there- as she did so. Harry, then, gave a quiet but mischievous laugh, "I just wanted to give you something." he said innocently, when Ginny gave him a fierce gaze.

He pulled out a little box out of his jacket's pocket, opened it and pulled the brilliant ring that lied there. It was of bright gold and had a large beautiful emerald. Harry pulled Ginny's hand, placed the ring on her finger and dropped her hand. He said it was only a 'first' ring, and more would follow. Ginny embarrassed, but not unhappy, expressed her pleasure and delight at receiving such a present.

They now looked each other in the face, for a long moment, each in their own thoughts and wonder. Finally Harry pulled her in a deep embrace. They kissed for a long moment, slowly and passionatly, a pure long kiss, that promised of a charming future.

They heard the commotion inside the Burrow and they continued their walk toward the house, to help preparing the lunch to which many were invited .



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Old July 25th, 2010, 5:07 am
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Re: Last Author Standing - Entries v.2

LAST AUTHOR STANDING

Topic: Describe Bellatrix Lestrange's (Black) first day at Hogwarts.

Entry #1

Black

The young girl woke up and for a moment she had no idea where she was as she stared at the green hangings around the four poster bed she was in. Then it all came back to her in one go and she smiled. She was at Hogwarts, ready to start her magical education. No not start but further it.

She smiled as she opened the hangings and sat up, her legs swinging above the stone floor. She picked up her wand and looked at it with an expression of pure pleasure. She could finally practice the magic properly. All the spells she had been taught by her family. Thinking of her family brought her mind to the previous night and the sorting. For one heart stopping moment the Hat had actually considered putting her in Gryffindor. That would have been the worst thing ever for her. Just because she gave a hint of being brash and did not posses much cunning. She just needed to imagine the reaction of her family and the Hat had shouted Slytherin to the rest of the Great Hall. She had almost become the only Black in Gryffindor.

A Black in Gryffindor would be thrown out by the Gryffindor’s themselves. She almost laughed at the thought. Her mother had been telling her about the Wizarding World and the current situation with regards to pure blood supremacy. But then her room mates even in Slytherin would be no match for her so any other in Hogwarts would be a far cry. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and hopped of her bed, walking to the bathroom.

The Great Hall was less crowded than the previous night but the chatter and noise had increased almost tenfold. She ate her breakfast alone without talking to anyone but her eyes were sweeping the Great Hall and observing the loudest and the most silent students. She had just finished the last spoon of her porridge when the large Walrus like man appeared beside her. She remembered he was the Head of Slytherin before he handed her the class schedule. She smiled back at him before staring at the parchment in her hands. The day started with Transfiguration and ended with Potions. She smiled once more. It seemed like a nice day. Soon she had managed to Transfigure her matchstick to a perfect needle.

The last class of the day was in the dungeons and she was hurrying for it when she heard a shout coming from the corridor to her left. She stopped and peered into the corridor. Two red haired boys with their backs to her were facing three other boys all wearing the Slytherin robes. Then she noticed some movement behind the boys and saw a third red haired boy and a red haired girl. All the kids seemed to be much older than her. Maybe sixth and seventh years she thought.

“… your baby sister and her boyfriend, Prewetts.” A dark haired Slytherin was saying.

“You wish Lestrange. Now let Arthur and her go, then we settle this among ourselves.” One of the boys with their back to her answered.

Bellatrix noticed the red haired children all had Gryffindor scarves. Almost as if the hair was part of the uniform. She almost giggled as she imagined herself with green hair. Then she noticed movement behind the Slytherin boys. The girl had began extracting her wand. Bellatrix already had her own wand in her hand and was taking aim as the girl pointed hers at the Lestrange boy. Bellatrix was faster and her spell hit the girl. The two boys turned around to face her and she noticed that they looked almost identical. Maybe brothers she thought before raising her wand and without thinking of consequences started hexing the boys before her.

The corridor exploded with multicoloured flashes as she saw the Gryffindor badge clashing with the girl’s now green hair and the grateful yet mischievous look on Lestrange’s face before she accepted the Hat’s thoughts on her brashness. Then everything went black.


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Old July 31st, 2010, 10:45 pm
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Re: Last Author Standing - Entries v.2

LAST AUTHOR STANDING

TOPIC:
Luna Discovers a New Species

Entry #1

Nargle Beetles
By Luna Lovegood

I met Rolf Scamander while searching for the Crumpled Horn Snorkack in Scandinavia. He was there to gain new information on the habits of bowtruckles for his great-grandfather, Newt Scamander’s book, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Our missions were different, but we were stuck together like mating wrackspurts.

Our latest adventure took us away from Europe and into the heart of South America. The rain forest is rich with some wonderful animals. If you ever make it down there be sure to bring a camera to capture the splendid colors and beauty.

Rolf originally wanted to visit South America to update the entries on dugbogs, but it wasn’t until we heard news of a new creature surviving among the Amazon River that we finally made our trek to the southern continent.

Maybe what they thought was a new creature turned out to be the Crumpled Horn Snorkack!

Unfortunately for Snorkack fans it was not.

Fortunately for everyone else, it is a new species.

Most people would say it is just a common black beetle, but most people would be wrong. If I can convince Rolf, I can convince even the most skeptical of readers.

The new insect, which has been given the name Nargle Beetle under the species Pterostichus nargulus, is found to be the cross-breeding of a common black beetle and a Nargle. The Nargle Beetle shares many characteristics of both beetle and the Nargle, but it cannot be classified as one or the other.

What makes it different from the common black beetle? While black beetles live under leaves, logs, and stones the Nargle Beetle thrives along riverbanks out in the open. Unlike the black beetle it can fly. It has small wispy wings almost invisible to the naked eye that allow it to flutter up to seven feet high. This is a characteristic derived from the Nargle. Also like Nargles it likes to steal things. Among my missing items when visiting the new species were socks, quills, and at one point my camera! The Nargle Beetles did, however, return the items before we left.

Nargle Beetles have the same eating habits of the common black beetle. We’ve found them to consume grubs, maggots, slugs, earthworms, and on occasion each other.

Nargle Beetles are harmless to humans unless provoked. Generally, they will leave anything it does deem food or something to be stolen alone. The Beetle’s mouth is very tiny and our skin is too big for it to absorb, but its antennae can prick the skin causing an annoying rash that does not last for more than a few hours.

This is a fascinating species Rolf and I are delighted to continue studying. Before leaving South America we captured a few in their own separate jars as they are prone to eat each other when they have run out of food. Rolf hopes to breed a few and collect enough information to include them in an entry in the next edition of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them which is due to be published sometime next year.


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Old July 31st, 2010, 10:52 pm
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Re: Last Author Standing - Entries v.2

LAST AUTHOR STANDING

Entry #2


Luna and the New Species

The musty salt filled afternoon air tickled her nose as she made her way back to camp, pushing the reeds aside as she made her way through them. A rigid sizable leather bag bounced upon her hip. The mucky soil was sticking to her boots, making a “plock” sound with each stride. The sticking soil was making her legs unusually heavy. She could, of course, clean off the boots with a tap of her wand, but in just a few strides they would be full again. She sighed. A persistent buzzing insect flew in circles just outside her right ear. Without warning her wand shot up and send an orange glow in the insect’s direction. It continued to buzz its wings, but was suspiciously forced to remain in the same spot, much to it would seem, in the insect’s dismay. With her other hand she had opened a glass jar quickly obtained from her leather bag and guided the insect into it, securing the lid with a tap of her wand. The day’s date along with an indistinguishable symbol appeared on the lid as she placed it back into her bag. She grinned. The soil was starting to become a bit more rigid now and the reeds were just starting to thin. A clearing opened open up just ahead.

“Ah! Here it is.” Luna mentioned as though someone was there to listen while she stepped into the clearing. A small blue tent occupied most of the small clearing. There was also a sturdy rough sawn wood table with chair stacked with glass jars containing a variety of items that she had collected, a smoldering fire with a tin pot suspended above the fire without visible support, and several unusual wind chime like items hanging from a low hanging tree branch that crossed the clearing. If Ron Weasley were to ask Luna what their purpose was, he would be sure that the answer would involve the Crumple-Horned Snorkack or some similar imaginary creature. She waved her wand and several click noises emanated as she entered camp.

“I wonder what I will find in the collection today,” Luna said while she unpacked her leather bag, setting them neatly on the table next to the several dozen other glass jars, about half of which were empty. She pulled herself up to the table, pulled out a purple notebook and tattered copy of a Horace Leafturner’s Encyclopedia of Magical Insects, 8th Edition, opening both to previously bookmarked pages. She began comparing illustrations to her occupied jars while she directed a pen with her wand to scribble away observations in the journal.

The afternoon turned to evening before Luna had completed going through her collected specimens of the day. “That took longer than I expected,” Luna exhaled, pushing herself away from the table. “It is too bad that Horace has already identified all of you,” tapping the jars with her wand. The insect which she caught on her way back to camp buzzed loudly and looked at her with contemptuous glare, then turned around as though it was his disapproval for his accomidation. “Tomorrow is another day,” Luna smiled, pulling off and roughly cleaning her boots with her wand. She made her way over to the smoldering fire, the grass tickling the bottom of her now bare feet. She retrieved a clean pair of boots from the magically suspended pot over the smoldering fire and replacing them with the still slightly soiled ones.

“Hoot Hoot,” Luna’s ears perked up. She spun around, wand poised. Atop the blue tent had appeared a tawny brown owl. “Hoot Hoot”, it repeated. “I had wondered where you had gone off to,” Luna answered “I haven’t seen you for several days. Oh! And you have a letter!” Luna grinned. She dashed over, untied the letter, and offered her owl several dried pieces of fruit from her pocket as a treat. Her owl offered her a look of disapproval, hooting slightly, but ate the treats anyway.

“The letter is from Rolf!” Luna squeaked in a rather excited voice while reading the letter. “He is in Northern Denmark studying pond creatures. The weather is quite rainy….. He is being disturbed by muggle fisherman from time to time….., but he still has quite a few species to study,” Luna continued to read aloud, “……he sends his best and looks forward to seeing me in several weeks time.” Luna smiled widely, “I will have to send him a reply in the morning.”

Still wearing her smile, she made her way into the tent, switched into her nightclothes, picked up her current copy of The Quibbler from the bedside table, and crawled into the cot like bed. She swirled her wand several times, securing the tent and campsite with several click noises as she breathed deeply. She placed her illuminated wand above her ear, and settled in to read the latest articles. Someone was attempting to sell self stirring cauldrons. Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes was offering a five percent discount for a purchase of 15 galleons or more. Luna turned the page. Several wizards were being investigated for taking a muggle’s lawnmower and teaching it to fly. Luna’s eyes were getting a bit heavy. She reached up to her ear to put out her wand when she saw them. Two round beetle like objects had crawled onto the corner of the magazine, just under the picture of flying lawnmower shooting grass clippings. They were bright green, about the size of a sickle and emitted a slight purple light.

Luna watched them for several minutes as they moved about the lawnmower picture. They had no wings, only four thin black legs. There didn’t seem to be any eyes either. They buzzed at each other in communication. Luna slowly went for her wand, summoning a glass jar from the table outside. The bugs didn’t seem to notice as the jar zoomed into the room, slowed, then landed quietly on her bedside table. They were too intrigued by the lawnmower picture. Without warning Luna quickly grasped her wand and shot an orange spell in the bugs’ direction. They stopped moving, just as the flying insect had earlier in the day. She directed them toward the jar and sealed the lid.

“Fascinating! I have never seen anything like this before! I wonder if they are in the Encyclopedia.” She jumped out of bed, flew out of the tent to the table and compared her new find to items in the encyclopedia. The now red bugs began to hover in the jar. “Oh they change color too!” Luna murmured as she scribbled notes into her journal. She turned page after page in the encyclopedia. “I can’t seem to find a match. I wonder if they are a new species,” she asked herself. “I will have to go check with London to be sure, but this is quite exciting,” Luna mentioned, almost ecstatic. “First, a quick note to Rolf”

Luna opened her desk drawer and scribbled a quick note describing her find, then called for her owl. “I know it is a bit late here, but I want you to take this to Rolf, okay?” Luna attached the letter to the owl who hooted in agreement. “When you finish, I will be in London. I know it has been ages, but you remember our flat near the institute right?” The owl hooted again and took to the air.

“It is just past 10 in the morning in London,” Luna thought to herself. “Everyone should be at the institute by now.” She quickly changed clothes, put on her traveling cloak, placing the bugs in her cloak pocket, tapping the jar for good luck. The bugs had now turned back into a shiny green color and were jumping on the bottom of the jar. She removed a large traveling trunk from the tent and with several flicks of her wand, all of the items, including the previously hovering boot filled pot along with all of her other glass jars, were neatly packed into the truck. She placed her hand on her trunk with all her items and with a loud crack she was on her way to London to verify her new find.


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Old August 8th, 2010, 9:05 pm
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Re: Last Author Standing - Entries v.2

LAST AUTHOR STANDING

Topic: The Sorting Ceremony in the 19 years later scene

Entry #1

The Sorting


The young boy gasped as his face broke into a rapturous grin, his emerald green eyes shining with excitement. They had been led down a narrow twisting path to get the first view of the castle and it had been simply worth anything to get that view. Whatever his father had told him of its magical beauty went out the window as he formed his own memories of seeing Hogwarts for the first time.

“Albus, Hagrid told us to go to the boats.” A young girl next to him whispered, but her voice was still awed by what she was seeing.

Albus turned to see a huge man gesturing to fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore of the lake in front of them. The other first years were already clambering over to them as Albus and the bushy haired girl moved to get into one. They were soon followed by a blonde haired boy and a brown haired one.

“Hi I am Harry, Harry Creevey,” the brown haired boy introduced himself. “I know you of course. Albus Potter and Rose Weasely. My dad has told me all about you. And you must be Scorpius Malfoy. You look just like your father.”

Rose shook her head as Albus stared at the boy. He thought he had been excited but this boy was redefining excitement. The four did not even realise the boats had taken off as Harry chattered away. It took some time for Albus to manage to get in a word edgeways and by the time the boats crossed into an underground tunnel even Malfoy had confirmed the introduction. The boats came to a stop in an underground harbour and all the students clambered out to follow Hagrid up to a large Oak door.

He raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door. The door swung open almost immediately and a tall lean man dressed in deep blue robes stepped out of it. His round face lit up in a smile as he saw the frightened and awed kids standing in front of him.

“The firs’ – years, Professor Longbottom.” Hagrid said.

The Professor nodded and thanked him before opening the doors wide and letting the first years all step into the entrance hall. Albus had been told it was large but this was massive. He barely heard the Professor’s lecture on house points as he had already gotten the same from his parents loads of times. In fact Professor Longbottom himself had given him the lecture before expecting Albus to be in Gryffindor of which he was the Head of House. They were then led through a set of double doors on the side of the Entrance hall and into the Great Hall. All focus was immediately on the enchanted ceiling. All the stories he had heard about it could not compare to what he was seeing then. It was just amazing. He looked down just in time to see Professor Longbottom place a frayed hat on a stool at the front. He turned around to notice the chatter stop as all attention focused on the hat.

As the hat opened its brim to start singing there was a loud bang and a multicoloured smoke filled the house table. The smoke cleared up suddenly and all the students were sprouting a different coloured hair. The Slytherin’s had red, the Hufflepuff’s had green, the Ravenclaw’s had yellow and the Gryffindor’s had proud blue hair. The hall erupted into laughter as the elder students saw each other’s hair. Albus remembered his cousin Teddy, James and his uncle George discussing a sorting ceremony prank using a house elf or two. Teddy had been grumbling how James had it easy as Headmistress McGonagall had retired and the new Headmaster Flitwick let people get away with such pranks. The laughter stopped suddenly as everyone realized the hat had continued singing.
Gryffindor the house of courage…
Albus was elbowed in his stomach as Rose pointed to the heads of the Slytherin’s sited next to where they were standing. He had to peer closely to see what had entranced his cousin. He didn’t need to stare much as he saw a snake, badger, eagle and lion going round the back of the head. The animals were in the same shade of colour as the hair had been turned into so it took some observing to make them out.

Albus was taken out of his thoughts by another elbow this time from Malfoy. He turned to glare at the blonde boy but Malfoy just pointed him ahead at the sorting hat. With a jolt he realized he had been looking forward to the sorting song and had almost missed it.

Then it might be Slytherin
Where you are sure to belong
So have nary a doubt
Once I send you along
To the house I decide
Shall be right and never wrong


Everyone burst into an applause as Albus groaned having missed most of the song. Professor Longbottom then began calling out the names for the students to be sorted.

“Adley John.”

Albus remembered his cousin complaining when he was in first and second year when almost all the first years then had been called Harry after his dad. At least that had gone down he thought as a name was called out.

“Creevey Harry.”

Albus groaned as the young excited boy walked up to the hat who almost immediately shouted, “GRYFFINDOR.”

The hat took the longest time on Malfoy finally screaming “HUFFLEPUFF.” Silence greeted that exclamation as everyone stare at the blonde aristocrat. Then the Hufflepuff’s table erupted in the loudest cheer yet. Soon it was “Potter Albus.”

Albus put on the hat and immediately a voice spoke in his ear.

“Hmmm. Even more difficult than your father I see. Less prejudiced then he was though. No request not to join any house… no… then remember this Mr. Potter, true unity has not been achieved since the founders themselves were alive but here in your mind I see the potential and the hope and therefore SLYTHERIN.”

A second silence filled the hall as Albus stood up and took of the hat. His footsteps echoed as he walked over to the Slytherin table. Then his brother James stood up clapping hard and even whistling. He was joined by their cousin Victorie at the Ravenclaw table. The two tables joined the applause and were soon followed by the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins. The whole school cheered for one student. The very first time in the history of sorting had this happened.

Albus was still shocked as he sat down at the Slytherin table. By the time his attention went back to the sorting Rose Weasley was the last one heading to the sorting. The hat didn’t stay long on her head before, “RAVENCLAW.”

It was only a moment before Albus realized that the four students that had shared the boat had all gone to different houses. Was it possible to get the unity his parents had always wanted for Hogwarts?


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  #10  
Old August 14th, 2010, 10:01 pm
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Re: Last Author Standing - Entries v.2

FINAL ROUND

LAST AUTHOR STANDING

Topic: Hermione Discovers a Suspicious Package

The Package

The bushy haired woman was poring over a parchment at her desk when she heard the window being tapped. She looked up, sitting straighter on her stiff backed wooden chair to see a tawny owl staring at her balefully through the window. She sighed as she remembered how hard she had fought to get a top side office that actually had a window. She picked her wand from the organized clutter on her desk and waved it. The window opened to let in the owl.

It was carrying a plain brown package that it dropped at the nearest available space it found and took off immediately. The woman raised her eyebrows at the odd behavior of the owl but thought nothing more of it as she reached forward for the package. She stopped short when a miniature glass spinning top on her left began whistling and spinning like crazy. She withdrew her hand immediately as the owl’s behavior was thrown into a new light. She turned her attention to the glass spinning top to see it spin faster than she had ever seen it do. Her eyes strayed to the inscription at the base, ‘To my dear sister, from Harry’. He had said she would need it after her elf protection bill had passed.

Her attention shifted back to the package on her desk that had coincidentally been placed between two framed photographs. The frames on themselves were nothing out of the ordinary but the pictures managed to attract her attention. The left one contained her two children and her husband. She almost smiled as she remembered claiming the photo had three children. The photo on the right was older. It had been taken immediately after the war and had the ‘Golden Trio’ as they had begun to be called back then. She spared both photos a glance as she debated whether to contact the auror department and let Harry or Ron handle it or handle the package herself. She quickly pictured their expressions and reactions and decided against calling her friend and husband.

She gripped her wand tightly and began waving an intricate design over the package all the while muttering in Ancient Greek. A pale yellow glow enveloped the package but nothing else happened. She frowned and bit her lower lip as she stared at the package. As the glow didn’t change colour it meant that there was no residual magic on it and therefore no hex or curse on it. She gingerly picked it up and stared at the childish writing at the top of the package in emerald green ink: “To Aunt Hermione”

She recognized the handwriting immediately. It belonged to Harry’s son James, her nephew. Her eyes involuntarily flicked to a third framed photograph on her desk. This one only had red and black haired children. She immediately sought out one young boy with the unruly black hair and brown eyes, his face split into a grin as he ruffled the hair of her son Hugo. Her heart leapt to her throat as she remembered the half dozen threats she had received regarding her children. But Ron had immediately gotten his eldest brother to upgrade the wards at their home to avoid any kidnappings. But James was at Hogwarts and she knew how safe the school was. What if someone had kidnapped James and made him send her a package. Her mind flew to the kidnapping movies she had watched where a package containing proof of life was sent along with a list of demands and threats.

It would be obvious for any of her enemies to know she would do anything for her nephew. No one would dare to use Harry’s children as leverage against him. People still whispered about certain Death Eaters who had attempted something that foolish when James had been born. But she was a different story. Her eyes flicked back to the inscription on the sneakoscope and read it again. She would definitely do anything to keep James safe.

Forgetting all about magic as she was prone to do when worried, she tore into the package and extracted a book from inside. She dimly registered the title as Hexing the Pureblood Law before opening it. There was a loud bang and flash temporarily blinding her. She rapidly blinked her eyes and saw the book turn into a single sheet of parchment. Worry was soon replaced by anger as she saw the handwriting on the parchment. She conjured a mirror and took a look before bursting into laughter. Her eye was steadily turning purple and her trademark panda look, the twins had named it so, began to appear on her face. She vanished the mirror and read the note properly
On the happy occasion of accepting a new partner in the ideas department a special gift for all family members. The scamps name should be obvious to all who bothered to check the handwriting on the package itself

Yours truly

George Weasley
Hermione smiled once more as she tried to imagine what they had done to her husband. Or something more entertaining yet, his reaction to it.




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Old August 14th, 2010, 10:04 pm
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Re: Last Author Standing - Entries v.2

LAST AUTHOR STANDING

Topic: Hermione Discovers a Suspicious Package

Sitting on Ron’s dresser in plain sight was a small black jewelry box. Hermione’s eyes widened. Her heart skipped a beat. Could it be?

Alone in the room, she stepped to the dresser and as quietly as possible opened the box. Part of her didn’t want to look knowing she would ruin the surprise, but the other part was dying to find out if her suspicions were true.

She gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.

Hearing footsteps she immediately shut the case and flew back to Ron’s bed, tripping over her own feet in the process.

"There it is.” Harry entered and pocketed the box. “Forgot I showed it to Ron.”

“Th-that’s yours?” She hoped her letdown didn’t show on her face.

“Er, yeah.” Harry glanced at Hermione, his cheeks turning pink. “I, er—did you see it?”

“No,” she lied.

“Has Ron told you?”

“Told me what?”

Harry sat down on the bed next to her and took out the box. He opened it showing off the shiny diamond ring.

“I’m asking Ginny to marry me tonight.”

She patted his knee and forced a smile. The ring would look beautiful on Ginny’s hand.

“She’ll say yes, won’t she?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks.”

Harry hugged his best friend and left the room.

Hermione sighed. So much for her dreams. She should have known it wasn’t Ron’s. He had the hardest time asking her to be his girlfriend. She couldn’t forget how long it took them to even have a first kiss. If she wanted to marry him, she’d have to do the asking or it may never get done.


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  #12  
Old December 4th, 2010, 7:04 pm
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Re: Last Author Standing - Entries v.2

LAST AUTHOR STANDING

Topic: Teddy Lupin is born (anybody's POV)

Entry #1


Just One Memory


I wish I had a memory of my parents. Just one. One memory and I would be set for the rest of my life. Only, they died when I was a baby. Too small to even crawl, and they went off to save the entire Wizarding World. How I wish to have a memory to know if they fought for me, too. Why would they though? I was only a baby. They hardly knew me at all.

Eleven years have gone by since the unfortunate killing of Teddy Lupin’s parents, Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin. He knew everything about them, but nothing at all. His Grandmother Andromeda would tell him story after story of his mother while she was growing up and what a fine young woman she turned out to be. His Uncle Harry would tell him stories of his father, but he too only knew so much. That was one thing he could really appreciate about his uncle. Neither of them could recall any memories about their parents, and the only thing they had to go off was what others told them.

Teddy, who lived off of the questions he had about his parents, was now stepping through Platform Nine and Three-quarters with his grandmother at toe. He was excited for his first year at Hogwarts because there, the only magical place he had left, he could find answers of his parents. Teachers were bound to know something, and if he was sorted into Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, so much the better!

The scarlet steam engine was making exasperated sounds as the engine was readying for the long trip ahead, and Teddy’s eyes were as wide as supper plates. This was the first time he had ever seen the Hogwarts Express and he was sure that one step away from his grandmother would be dangerous in the fact he’d be lost in a heartbeat.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Andromeda whispered into his ear, placing one hand on his shoulder to help with her balance. Teddy didn’t answer. His attention was set on the other kids all around him. All of them were quickly talking to their parents as they passed and each of them seemed either over excited or groping at the hem of their parent’s robes in hopes of staying. What really hit Teddy, was the ages everyone seemed to be. A girl wearing a silver badge on her chest was talking to her mum and dad. A tear ran down her face as she was telling them goodbye.

Teddy loved his grandmother more than anyone or anything in the world, but he would always feel that need for his parents. He turned and looked up with a small smile to his grandmother and he hugged her. “I’m going to miss you,” he said. Andromeda patted his back and kissed the top of his head, burying her face in his turquoise tresses.

“I’ll miss you too, my love,” Andromeda cried and then looked down at her grandson. He was sure she was having memories of dropping her late daughter off at the Hogwarts Express. Sure enough, he was right. “I see so much of your mother in you, when you’re not transformed into some ungodly creature that is,” she added with a twinkle in her eye. “Your father, too. You have his charm, wit and the same pensive quietness.”

“You lie,” Teddy said but he wasn’t rude about it. “I’m a Metamorphmagus, I can change my appearance to look like them if I want. I’ve seen enough pictures, who knows what I really look like.” He sulked, but Andromeda lifted his chin and looked straight into his eyes with a knowing smile on her face.

“No,” she said. “I can still see them in you. Both of them. No matter what your appearance may be, they will always be there,” she tapped his nose and winked. Teddy couldn’t help but grin and the thought of him looking like his parents. It was true that he had seen many pictures of them, but he never saw any resemblance unless he tried. He was told his father was a werewolf, but he never inherited that trait, thankfully, but it was one more thing he always looked at as separating him from his father. Obviously, he inherited his mother’s trait, which came in handy a time or two.

“Thanks, Grandma,” he said, watching as a boy around his size pointed him out to his mother and father.

“Look, mummy! That boy has blue hair!” he exclaimed.

Andromeda and Teddy shared a knowing look and smiled. If Teddy had more training he would have made a snout for a nose in an instant to scare the kid, but that would take him nearly an hour. Soon, however, the thought of the boy and his parents reminded Teddy of what they were talking about and he looked seriously at his grandmother for a second before asking, “Grandma? Can you tell me a memory? Not one of yours, but one that I should remember about them. Something that I can think about while I’m away at Hogwarts.”

She looked at him thoughtfully for a moment and then settled down on a bench nearby the train. Teddy sat next to her as she looked up at the ceiling for a moment as she thought. Finally, she looked right at him with loving eyes and patted his knee.

“Do you remember what your Uncle Harry told you about your father for your eighth birthday?” she asked, patiently waiting as he thought about what exactly his uncle told him.

“Yea,” he answered finally. “He said that dad and mum were resurrected or something like that, and when he spoke to them, dad said, ‘"Sorry I will never know him... but he will know why I died and I hope he will understand I was trying to make a world in which he could live a happier life."’ Or something like that. Why?”

“Well,” she pushed, “that’s exactly why your mother and father sacrificed themselves in that war. You may think that to them the Wizarding world was all they knew. As that may be, they also knew that with their sacrifices, this world would be a safer and better place for you to live. So it has been. You see, the day you were born, your mum and dad dedicated the entire day to you. I’ll admit that for a while your father was unsure about your birth. Though, you must understand it was out of love, for he didn’t want you to inherit his curse. Either way, toward the end he couldn’t wait for your arrival.

“Tonks— Your mum, gave birth to you in the safety of their home, considering St. Mungos would be filled with Death Eaters the moment any Order of the Phoenix member stepped inside. Your father couldn’t wait, and a few of the Weasley’s were there to witness your birth. Molly was hustling and bustling with joy that you would be born soon, while Bill and Fleur were there to announce they were working on having a baby as well. They, however, wanted to wait until they were sure that the world would be safe. I was in a right state of worry. You know how I am. You are my first, and last grandson after all.”

She stopped for a moment as she reminisced in the past. Teddy was taking in all of the information he could, picturing every little detail. He was sure his memory of the house was a bit off, but he wasn’t too particular about that. He could see his dad hovering over his clumsy mother, and they were sharing a smile. It was the same loving smile that he saw his Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny share whenever they saw one another. He had seen his fair share of children being born with the Potters and Weasley’s combined, so the memory was coming to him much easier than he expected.

“Anyway,” she continued, wiping gentle tears from her eyes with a handkerchief initialed A.B. “I remember the very moment you were born. Your mother wasn’t exactly excited to give birth with a room full of people, but it was the happiest event any of had witnessed in a long time. Now, naturally on your birth certificate it says you were born with pitch black hair and brown eyes, but within the hour your hair went vivid ginger and both eyes continuously changed color. Luckily, you remained normal with all twenty digits and a normal nose long enough we all thought you were absolutely adorable,” she nudged him in the ribs and smiled with a choke of laughter.

“So is that what I look like?” he asked, “I mean, what I really look like?” he asked close to desperation.

Andromeda laughed and sat back with her red purse now clenched by both hands in her lap. “I suppose so,” she answered honestly. “Exactly how your mother looked the day she was born. Only, I wasn’t expecting a Metamorphmagus for a daughter, so you can imagine my fright then. Oh, how everyone wanted to hold you, but your mum and dad wouldn’t let anyone until they had some time alone with you. Tonks asked for everyone to leave and your father shut the doors behind us. I don’t know what happened after that, but I suppose they just held you and let you know how much they loved you.” She finished up.

Teddy was staring at his feet that didn’t quite reach the ground. He was swinging them back and forth, and his old sneakers were untied. The aglets were tapping against the old cobbled floor. Then he looked up at his grandmother and a single tear ran down his cheek.

“They did,” he said suddenly.

“Did what, dear?” she asked, grasping onto the side of the bench to stand up.

“They held me and smiled down at me,” he remembered. The image of his mother and father staring down at them with loving smiles were flashing at him. His father kissed his mother on the sweaty forehead and stroked her bubblegum pink hair.

“You did well,” he said, and then took a hold of his son. Though Remus never had a child before, his practice with Harry when he was younger helped him in knowing how to handle Teddy.

“My son,” he said as he rocked him gently around the room. “My healthy, normal, wonderful son.”

“Remus, he’s beautiful isn’t he?” his mum asked from the giant bed she was laying in.

“Yes,” his father chocked. “Perfect in every single way. Just like his mum.”

“Well, we all know I’m not
perfect,” she chuckled and held her arms out for the return of her son. Remus sat next to her and passed Teddy carefully to the woman he loved more than any other in his world.

“To me you are,” he said as his attention was drawn to the tired Metamorphmagus. “And you’re the perfect mum according to Teddy.” He added smugly.

Tonks snorted. “Ha! Just wait until he’s a teenager. We won’t be so perfect then.”

“Well that’s later isn’t it?” Remus asked. “As for now, we are the perfect family. I am the luckiest man alive right now. I have the most beautiful woman, who birthed the most beautiful son in the world. And I love you both more than anything in this world combined.”

Tonks kissed her husband and then looked deep into Teddy’s eyes. “Did you hear that, little guy? Daddy’s really a big softie, no matter what face he puts on,” she laughed and then kissed him on the forehead. Remus wrapped his arm around Tonks and put one hand underneath Teddy’s head. There was a moment of silence as the family enjoyed what would possibly the last happiest memory of their lives.

“I love you.” His parents whispered to one another and then shared the last kiss Teddy could remember them having. “And we love you too, little one. More than you could ever know.”


“I love you, too.” Teddy said as he snapped out of his memory.

“Oh! Well, I love you too, Teddy,” his grandmother answered. He hadn’t realized, but they were still on the bench next to the Hogwarts Express. Andromeda never once interrupted him while he was in thought, and nearly everyone was boarded onto the train already. “Come on now, love. It’s time for you to go!”

Teddy boarded onto the train after a kiss on the cheek from his grandmother, and stuck his head out a window to wave goodbye. She kissed the tips of her fingers and then blew him the kiss. He pretended to catch it and placed it on his own lips, blowing it back to her. At last, when his grandmother was no longer in sight he took a seat in a compartment that was occupied with two other first years and smiled to himself. His need for answers at Hogwarts lessened, and he felt as though he were ready to take Hogwarts on for his first year and make his parents proud.

“Hi. I’m Theodore Remus Lupin,” he introduced himself to the two first years sitting with him. “But you can call me Teddy.”


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  #13  
Old December 4th, 2010, 7:06 pm
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Re: Last Author Standing - Entries v.2

LAST AUTHOR STANDING

Topic: Teddy Lupin is born (anybody's POV)

Entry #2


Teddy Is Born

Remus wasn’t sure when exactly Tonks had woken him up with the news that the baby was on its way. What had followed had been too chaotic and stressing for him to remember something as basic as what time it had been, and in the end it didn’t really matter anyway. The important thing was that the baby was coming, and it was coming now.

When his wife woke him up, Remus immediately sprung into action, which involved knocking over the bedside lamp and running around the room panicking for a full minute with absolutely no idea what he was doing. Soon however, he was able to collect his wits long enough to run into the bedroom down the hall.

“Andromeda!”

Within seconds, Tonks’s mother was out of bed and in the hallway, blue robe swishing at her bare ankles.

“Get her downstairs. Just as we planned,” Andromeda said, before heading to the stairs herself.

“Right. Downstairs. Just as planned,” Remus said. He had to get Tonks downstairs to the living room, where her mother would help her give birth to their child. Remus would much rather have taken her to St. Mungo’s, but at present that was out of the question. The risks were just far too great, so everything would have to be done in the house. Now he had to bring Tonks downstairs . . . wait where was she?

“Remus!”

Oh, right! Remus sprinted into the bedroom where his wife was sitting on the edge of the bed, clutching her swollen belly and breathing heavily.

“Remus!” she cried out.

“I’m right here, Tonks,” Remus said, rushing to her side. He put his arm around her back and, carefully supporting her weight, guided her across the room to the door.

“My mother--”

“She’s already downstairs and waiting for you,” Remus said as they reached the steps. Getting her down all those stairs was difficult in her current state, but they somehow managed.

“Bring her over here,” Andromeda said, guiding them into the living room where she had cleared a space and prepared it with blankets and towels. Remus set Tonks down gently, never letting go of her hand.

“By the sound of it we still have a few minutes before things really start to get difficult,” Andromeda said, covering her daughter with one of the blankets. Tonks’s eyes met Remus’s.

“You’ll stay?”

“Of course.”

------

The sun was well into the sky as Andromeda stepped outside to get some fresh air. After exhaling and inhaling a few times, she walked further into the yard, up to a small cherry tree planted on the edge of the garden.

“It’s a boy,” she said, kneeling down on the soft earth, her fingers caressing the ribbon tied around the tree. “They’ve named it after you, dear. Teddy Remus Lupin.”

Andromeda felt the tears welling up again, but she managed to keep them in check.

“I promise I’ll go and visit you properly, my love, but it’s just too dangerous now. So I thought I would come here instead, to the tree you planted just before you left--”

She couldn’t go on. Her throat seized up and the tears now flowed freely down her cheeks.

I miss you, Ted.

-------

Remus kissed his wife’s forehead and then looked down at the small child in her arms.

“He’s beautiful,” he said, marveling at the tiny creature. Was that sleeping baby really his son? His and Tonks’s?

“He looks just like you,” Tonks said, smiling as her fingers stroked the child’s head.

“No, I think he looks more like you,” Remus said.

“I guess he’ll just have to look like both of us,” she replied.

“I guess so,” Remus said, smiling down at her. She looked up and smiled back, their eyes only breaking contact when they kissed.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Remus, do you really think we can do this? Be parents, I mean.”

“Well let’s see,” Remus said. “We’ve faced Death Eaters, werewolves, members of the Ministry, and we even managed to redecorate the bedroom without your mother’s help.” Tonks laughed. “I think we can handle parenthood.”

The two sat in silence, holding each other and looking at Teddy with the love and fondness of all parents. Yet after awhile Remus’s lips twitched downward into a frown, and his eyes narrowed in concern as he looked at his son.

“Tonks . . .”

“Mmm?”

“What if, what if he is like me? What if--?”

“Then he’ll have a family who will love and support him no matter what,” Tonks said, cutting him off. “We’ve already talked about this, Remus, please don’t bring it up again.”

Remus was silent as he remembered the last time they had discussed the issue. It was not a conversation that he was proud of.

“Besides, it’s a little late for ‘what ifs,’ don’t you think?” Tonks said, smiling at him. Remus laughed and they looked down again at their son. And then they stared.

“. . . wasn’t his hair black a moment ago?”

“Yes, I’m sure it was,” Tonks said, frowning.

“But now it looks, sort of reddish, wouldn’t you say?”

“Yes, it does. I was going to blame on post-childbirth fatigue, but if you can see it too then I guess I’m not imagining it.”

Remus held his wife close to him. His wife and his son. His family.

“I guess he looks more like you after all.”


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  #14  
Old December 4th, 2010, 7:07 pm
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Re: Last Author Standing - Entries v.2

LAST AUTHOR STANDING

Topic: Teddy Lupin is born (anybody's POV)

Entry #3


Dean

"It's so beautiful here."

I heard her coming, and I knew from the light steps that it was Luna. I don't feel like talking, but I don't complain when she sits down beside me on the rock.

"They want to be left alone I think."

I snort lightly. It's easier being out here. Not feeling like you're interrupting a private moment every time you enter a room.

"It's nice that they named him Teddy."

I look over at her. She's so pale. The light from the cottage behind us makes her hair and skin almost translucent. She's one of those people who can stare into another person's eyes and never look away. I don't know if she's reading my mind or day-dreaming about strange creatures that live behind people's eyelids.

"You know, I spent almost four months with Mr. Ollivander. He's a very nice man."

Reading my mind then. Laughing or crying both seem like proper responses to all this, but all I can manage to do is sigh and hold my hand out to her.

She takes it with a smile and looks out at the sea in silence, settling in like a child waiting for a bedtime story.

We sit quietly for a long time, just enjoying the sound of the waves.

Finally I say, "I heard the story of when Nymphadora was born a dozen times in those five months. He was really proud of her.

"He was so excited to be a grandfather. He'd have made a really great one too." I don't say that he was like a grandfather to me. He kept our minds off how horrible the whole situation was. I almost felt like I was just out camping sometimes.

"I'd be dead a couple times over without him. He fought them with a stolen wand. He and Dirk..."

But I can't continue with that train of thought at the moment.

"I hope his grandson can live up to his name," I finish.

"When it's all over you can go and visit them. Tell them about all he did and how he talked about them. They'd like that."

The salty air feels so clean. The navy blue of the sea and sky really is beautiful in the darkness.

"Yea, I will Luna. Thanks."

"Of course, Dean." She's quiet for another minute before squeezing my hand. "Happy Birthday to Teddy Lupin."


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  #15  
Old December 4th, 2010, 7:08 pm
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Re: Last Author Standing - Entries v.2

LAST AUTHOR STANDING

Topic: Teddy Lupin is born (anybody's POV)

Entry #4


The Birth of Teddy Lupin

It should be one of the happiest days of my life. I’m meant to be treasuring every moment of this.

Instead, all I can do is pretend to smile while inside, my nerves are churning in my stomach in a never ending torment of worry.

What if the baby is cursed with...what I am? How can I put my wife through all that agony, to discover that her child will always be an outcast- a monster, a freak?!

My thoughts are shattered by a scream, and I feel a woman’s nails digging deeply into my palm. I sharply look up. “It’ll be alright, Nymphadora, you’re- you’re doing brilliantly.” I try to sound cheerful and strong, but everything comes out sounding weak; weak like the coward I am.

Nymphadora (I am the only one that can get away with calling her that) flashes an amazingly radiant smile, considering the tremendous pain she is in. This vanishes all too quickly as she inhales sharply and grimaces.

“H-he’s a fighter, so he is, like his Dad,” she gasps out, while her mother wipes her face with a soothing cloth.

I don’t bother to ask how she knows it will be a little boy, all I do is take her nearest hand and kiss it gently.

One minute...Nympahdora screams again. I flinch.

Two minutes...Andromeda kneels, announcing that, “It’s time.”

Time for what? The tragedy that I have caused?

Three minutes...I have the most sudden desire to vomit. I have to leave, I cannot bear to watch, I don’t want to see this innocent child that will inevitably be doomed for etern-

There is a cry that only a newborn can give. It sounds fresh and naive and pure. With glistening eyes, Andromeda passes a heavily towel wrapped bundle in my direction. I hesitate before, with uncontrollably shaking arms, I take it and force myself to look.

A flash of turquoise hair. Blue eyes and a little nose and mouth. The tiniest, most vulnerable fingers that I have ever seen.

And suddenly, the knowledge hits me at the speed of a Firebolt: he’s perfect. He’s not me. He’s not me!

Nymphadora catches my eye, glowing with pride. My expression must give me away because she frowns, concerned. I barely register Andromeda carefully taking my son from me or my wife saying, “I’d like name him Ted- after Dad.”

Teddy a numb part of my brain tells me, little Teddy...Lupin.

The most glorious form of relief seeps inside me; I have not harmed my son, after all! A huge weight finally lifts from my shoulders, a cloud vanishes into nothing.

And I collapse into my wife’s arms and weep.


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  #16  
Old December 11th, 2010, 6:01 pm
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Re: Last Author Standing - Entries v.2

LAST AUTHOR STANDING

Topic: Dobby Looking for a Job

Entry #1


The warm summer air hung heavily over the small, sleepy village of Norburgh Grove. While most of the village was still in a slumber a grumbly yet eccentric looking old man was throwing open his windows to welcome in the summer heat. Ace Welsh was a man who drew a lot of attention from his neighbors, much unwanted attention.

But on this particular morning, Mr. Welsh was looking to have a nice quiet day at home. As he was opening the window facing the street a loud CRACK! filled the thick air. Mr. Welsh froze. Any normal citizen of Norburgh Grove would simply think a car backfired, but Mr. Welsh knew better. Just as soon as the thought had crossed his mind, Mr. Welsh saw a small, dirty house-elf emerge from behind a nearby rose bush. To Mr. Welsh's horror the elf seemed to be heading straight for his home. He flew to the door and swung it open.

"Hello, sir. My name is Dobby. Dobby, the house-elf, sir." squeaked Dobby.

"Who sent you? What do you want?" barked Mr. Welsh.

"No one sent me, sir. I come looking for a job, sir."

"No, I don't need a house-elf," Mrs. Welsh said and tried to shut the door. But Dobby had stuck his foot in the door just before it could close. It was then that Mr. Welsh realized Dobby was wearing one black sock on his right foot. Dobby quickly squeezed into the house before Mr. Welsh could push him out.

"But, please, sir. Dobby would love to work for you, sir."

"Why don't you already have a job?"

"My master freed me just a few weeks ago, sir."

"Why? What did you do?" Mr. Welh asked suspiciously.

"Oh nothing, sir!" Dobby's eyes widened. "Harry Potter freed Dobby, sir. Dobby is most thankful to Harry Potter."

"You were Harry Potter's house-elf?" Mr. Welsh asked confused.

"No, sir. But Harry Potter helped free Dobby."

"And you're happy to be free?"

"Of course, sir!" Dobby squeaked. "Dobby's masters were -" Dobby's face contorted. He scrambled across the room and starting banging his head off the corner of the table.

"Bad Dobby! Dobby almost spoke ill of his masters! Dobby must be punished!"

"Knock it off!" grumbled Mr. Welsh, concerned for his table. "Don't do that." Mr. Welsh grabbed Dobby by the dirty pillowcase he wore and dragged him away.

"Thank you, sir." Dobby said.

"So, er, a job, eh? I suppose I could help you out. For a little while."

"Excellent. Thank you, sir! Dobby won't ask for much pay, sir."

"Pay? House-elves don't get paid."

"But Dobby is a free-elf, sir. Dobby must be paid."

"I don't think so! I will not pay a house-elf. I can't afford it. It is unheard of."

"But Dobby must be paid, sir. Dobby is a free elf!"

"I said no! I can't help you. I think you should leave." Mr. Welsh walked back over to the door and opened it.

Dobby looked saddened. "Fine, sir. Dobby will leave. But I wish you'd reconsider, sir."

"No," Mr. Welsh said finally. "All I want is peace."

Dobby slunked across the floor and out the door. Dobby walked to the end of the walkway as Mr. Welsh shut the door. But before departing Dobby snapped his fingers and Mr. Welsh's rose bushes danced to life. And with another loud CRACK! Dobby disappeared.

Mr. Welsh spent the rest of his peaceful day chasing his rose bushes up and down the street as his neighbors looked on in disbelief.


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  #17  
Old December 11th, 2010, 6:02 pm
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Re: Last Author Standing - Entries v.2

LAST AUTHOR STANDING

Topic: Dobby Looking for a Job

Entry #2


House-elf for Hire

Ding-dong.
I started up from between the pages of the book I’d been reading. My back ached and my body was slightly stiff from sitting in an armchair all afternoon, but the book was good and I didn’t have much else to do anyway.
Ding-dong.
“Mum! Someone’s at the do-or!”
Ding-dong.
“Mum?”
Ding-dong. Ding-dong.
With a great sigh I heaved myself up out of the chair, lying the book on top of the armrest and making my way to the front door.
Ding-dong. Ding-dong. Ding-dong.
“Alright, alright, I’m coming!”
I opened the door to face . . . nothing. No wait, there was someone there. Switching my gaze to about three feet below eye-level, I saw a tiny little house-elf with bat-like ears and big, round eyes. He seemed startled, as if he hadn’t expected anyone to open the door, and in his tiny left hand he clutched a stick that’d been broken off of a tree. He probably used it to reach the doorbell.
“Um, hi,” I said, looking down at him. He was dressed in nothing but a dirty old pillowcase, with the exception of a single black sock on his right foot. Odd, house-elves aren’t supposed to wear clothes. Did some family dismiss him? “Can I . . . help you?”
“Hello! Dobby is looking for work and he was wondering if you had any work that he may do. Dobby promises to work very, very hard and will even deal his own punishments.”
“Well I don’t know about punishments, but mum was looking for an extra hand around the house. Single parent, four mouths to feed and all that. I could ask her if you want.”
The house-elf brightened up considerably. He didn’t look very impressive, with his shabby attire and his posture always bent, as if he were used to looking down at other people’s feet. Well, he was a house-elf after all, so I suppose it’s to be expected. Still, he looked so miserable like that, I was glad to be able to cheer him up in some way. And mum really did need some help around the house. I tried to do what I could, but when I went away to school during the year she was left with my sisters, who were far too young to be of any help. A house-elf would be good for her.
“Thank you very much, kind Miss,” he was saying, bowing and smiling widely. “Dobby will be a good house-elf, and he only asks for a small fee--”
“Wait, a fee?” I asked. “You mean, you want us to pay you? With money?”
As quickly as he had cheered up, the house-elf sank back into his previous, submissive demeanor. His ears hung limply around his head, and he wrung his hands together.
“Always,” he mumbled, “always it is the money they do not like. Dobby is a hard-working house-elf, but nobody wants to pay him anything for his troubles.”
“Well, you’re a house-elf, aren’t you?” I said. “You not exactly supposed to be paid to work for a family.” A bit harsh maybe but it was true. House-elves were meant to serve wizarding families for free. They got food and a place to sleep, and in exchange they did chores and little tasks for us, that’s just the way things were. The little elves liked work anyway, so the arrangement worked out for everyone.
“Why aren’t you working for a family, by the way?” I asked. “It’s not often I see a house-elf out of work. First time, actually.”
The house-elf straightened up, and there was a visible change in his face. He was no longer the cowering servant, but something else. Something stronger.
“Dobby is a free elf,” he said, pronouncing the words very carefully as though he were still getting used to them. “Dobby still wants work, but now he also wants to be paid for it! Dobby knows that you do not want to pay him, Miss, but Dobby has decided on this. If he will work, he must be paid.”
No wonder he got dismissed. Any house-elf that wants pay is just asking for trouble. It simply wasn’t the way things worked. From the looks of this one, he had been out of work for a long time. The pillowcase he wore was so filthy it almost blended in with the night. And it couldn’t be very warm. A gust of wind blew past and I shivered in the open doorway. No, I doubt it was very much protection against the cold. I thought for a moment about inviting him in to warm up by the fire, but I wasn’t sure how my mum would react to an unemployed house-elf sitting in her living room, so I decided not to.
“Well,” I said, “I’m sorry, but we can’t pay you. I don’t think my mum would approve, and it’s just, just not proper, to pay a house-elf, if you know what I mean.”
The house-elf hung his head and resumed the wringing of his hands.
“Dobby knows all too well what you mean, Miss,” he said. “Dobby has been out looking for work for nearly a year now, and he has not found any. A dismissed elf is a disgraced elf to witches and wizards. Dobby is not wanted, but at least he is free.”
“You keep saying that,” I said. “‘Free,’ as though it’s a good thing to be dismissed.”
The house-elf hesitated, looking as though he was trying to decide how best to answer. It was almost as though he was attempting to dance around a sensitive subject. Had his dismissal really been that bad?
“Dobby is glad to be free . . .” he said at last, “because now Dobby . . . Dobby is no longer . . . he does not serve . . .”
Then, without warning, he prompty began twisting his ears until his eyes watered from the pain.
“Bad Dobby, bad Dobby. Mustn’t speak ill, no, no, bad Dobby!”
“Hey, stop that!” I cried. After a moment he released his ears and brought his hands together again.
“Why would you intentionally hurt yourself?” I asked. “Are you mental?” The house-elf gave a small, sad smile.
“Dobby is so used to punishing himself, Miss, that he sometimes forgets that he is a freed elf and is doing no wrong, Miss.”
Used to punishing himself? Is that what his old family did? Ordered him to hurt himself whenever he did something wrong? That was no way to treat a house-elf. My friend’s family owned an elf, and they would never treat it like that. A house-elf may not be human, but it wasn’t an animal. Another cold blast of wind reminded me that I was still holding the door open and it was very cold out.
“Well listen,” I said, “I’m very sorry for your situation and all that, but I’m afraid we can’t let you work for us if we have to pay you for it. You’ll have to try somewhere else.”
The house-elf nodded slowly, his shoulders sinking down until he was bowed over again.
“Dobby understands. Thank you, Miss.”
As he turned to walk away, I called out after him, “Maybe if you didn’t ask for money, you could get work.” He turned back to me, and shook his head very deliberately from side to side.
“No, Miss. Dobby must be paid. For he is free and he is his own elf, nobody else’s.”
And then he turned and walked away. I stared after him, his tiny figure sinking into the night, all alone against a great big world. I watched as he made his way down the street, turned a corner, and then the house-elf--Dobby--vanished from sight.


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  #18  
Old December 29th, 2010, 6:06 pm
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Re: Last Author Standing - Entries v.2

LAST AUTHOR STANDING

Topic: Pick your favorite 'Harry Potter' family and write about them celebrating their favorite holiday.

Entry #1

Christmas with the Weasleys

The night was especially silent, and any sound that did manage to slip through was muffled by the falling snow outside. This same snow draped itself over the crooked old building known as the Burrow, inside of which lay Arthur and Molly Weasley, heavily immersed in the dreams that sleep brings. Both husband and wife slept soundly beneath warm, cozy blankets, unconsciously cherishing the peace and quiet that came with the breaking dawn.

Too bad silence never lasts very long on Christmas Day.

“Mum! Dad! Wake up! Wake up! Father Christmas came last night!”

“‘Course he did, you ninny. What else did you expect?”

“After all, it’s his job to show up and drop off gifts. He’s got to do it.”

“Oh, let him alone you two. And did we really need to get up so early?”

“If we’d waited any longer, Ginny would’ve gone berserk.”

“I could have done with a bit more shut-eye myself.”

“You’re too old, Bill. You don’t get as excited as you used to anymore.”

“I’m not that old!”

“Muuuuuuum! Daaaaaaad!”

Arthur and Molly started awake as they were assaulted by a mass of ginger-haired children. The youngest two, Ron and Ginny, leapt onto the bed and started bouncing up and down in excitement. Bill, Charlie, and Percy stood by the doorway, watching them with amusement. Fred and George, who had just reached that age when the boundaries between children and their parents first start to arise, stood at the edge of the bed but did not climb onto it.

“Come on! Get up!” Ron cried. “We have to go downstairs and open presents!”

“Presents! Presents!” Ginny echoed.

“In my opinion, presents shouldn’t be opened until the sun is well into the sky,” Arthur grumbled while Ginny jumped onto his knees.

“Wouldn’t that be lovely,” Molly mumbled, pushing Ron off of her so she could get out of bed. “Alright, alright. You kids head down and your father and I will be there in a minute.”

Ron jumped off the bed and ran past his brother out the door with little Ginny squealing with delight at his heels. Fred and George broke into identical grins and chased after them, and although Percy tried to restrain himself, he couldn’t help hurrying down the stairs as well, Bill and Charlie following after him.

“I’m fairly certain I never woke my parents up this early,” Arthur said, yawning heavily as he stretched and got out of bed. Molly was already up and pulling on her robe and slippers.

“You were a child once too, Arthur,” she said. “Come on, we ought to go down before they tear the living room apart.” She started to head towards the door, but Arthur caught a hold of her hand and turned her around to face him. Reaching up to cup her cheek, Arthur drew his wife in close.

“Happy Christmas, Molly,” he said.

“Happy Christmas, darling,” Molly replied, and she pulled him closer for a kiss.

“MUUUUUUM! DAAAAAAD! Hurry up!”

The two broke apart, laughing.

“I guess we’d better get down there,” Arthur said.

Arms wrapped around each other, the two made their way downstairs to join their children around the Christmas tree. It was only a small fir that Mr. Weasley had cut down himself, but the family had decorated it with so many ornaments and trimmings that it looked every bit as respectable and beautiful as a proper Christmas tree should. The children were gathered around the base, with their presents already on their laps.

“Finally! Thought you two’d gone back to bed,” Fred said.

“Can we open presents now?” Ginny asked. Arthur and Molly smiled.

“Alright, go on.”

The next several minutes were filled with the sound of paper tearing and cries of joy from various Weasleys. The sweaters were the first to be opened. Molly had been knitting them every year and by now the children could all recognize inside which boxes they were wrapped. Fred and George swapped sweaters, as was custom with them even though it drove everyone else mental trying to figure out which was which.

Then came the rest of the gifts. The older ones were content to unwrap their presents quietly, but the others couldn’t seem to get the wrapping off fast enough. Soon the sounds of crinkling paper were replaced by squeals of delight as they saw what they had gotten. Fred and George cheered as they held twin bags of treats from Zonko’s (accompanied by their mother’s stern warning that these were absolutely not to be used inappropriately or dangerously under any circumstances), while Ron immediately swapped his Christmas sweater for his new Chudley Cannons team shirt. Percy seemed very satisfied with his new book, The Rules that Govern Our Wizarding World, and Ginny was running around so much it was making everyone else dizzy.

Finally they began to settle down. Molly and Arthur stood up to usher everyone into the kitchen for breakfast when Ron spoke up.

“Is that all?”

Everyone froze to look at him, and Ron suddenly seemed very uncomfortable. His ears turned red as they always did when he was embarrassed, and he continued on in a smaller voice.

“Didn’t we have more last year?”

The family was silent. Molly and Arthur looked at each other sadly, while the other children who were old enough to understand the reason behind the shortage of presents looked from their parents to Ron and back again, waiting for someone to speak up. Finally, Fred turned to Ron, who at this point was looking quite miserable for having said anything in the first place.

“Nah, you must not have counted them right,” Fred said. “This is definitely the same number of presents we got last year.”

“Definitely,” George echoed. “You’re just too young to remember it properly.”

“Besides,” Percy added, “it’s the quality of the gifts that matters, not the quantity.”

Ron looked as though he didn’t quite understand that last bit, but he knew that he had said something wrong, and so decided to hide inside his new shirt the way young children do when they’re scared or nervous. Molly left Arthur’s side to walk over to her youngest son. Placing her arms around him, she slowly coaxed him out of his shirt like a turtle coming out of its shell.

“It’s alright, Ron,” she said soothingly, “but not every Christmas is going to be the same as the last. There may be some years when there aren’t a whole lot of gifts. But,” she said, smoothing back his hair from his forehead and wiping away the tears that had begun to form at the corners of his eyes, “what’s important is that we can be together as a family at this time every year. Do you understand, Ronnie?”

Ron nodded and threw himself into his mother’s arms. Arthur knelt down and enfolded the pair of them in a hug. Soon the rest of the family joined in, until they were all one big mass of love and support. They all knew that they were each other’s greatest gifts.

Finally, Arthur stood up to beckon them all into the kitchen.

“Let’s see what your mother’s cooked up for you this year, eh?”

Slowly, everyone began to make their way into the other room, with Bill, Charlie, and Percy in the lead escorting Ginny, and Fred and George following behind, already discussing ways to circumvent their mother’s warnings about the Zonko’s products. Arthur and Molly followed last of all, with Ron between them, who was holding tightly onto their hands. There would be hard times to come, but they would all get through it; so long as they had each other, they would endure. It was a lesson that Ron would come to understand when he grew older, and Ginny after him. Tough times are always surrounding us, but all one truly needs is a loving family that can come together to wish each other a happy Christmas, and to be there to face what lies ahead.

Here are the ages of the Weasley children for reference:

Bill--Fourteen
Charlie--Twelve
Percy--Nine
Fred & George--Seven
Ron--Five
Ginny--Four


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  #19  
Old January 8th, 2011, 6:11 pm
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Re: Last Author Standing - Entries v.2

LAST AUTHOR STANDING
Topic: A Snape vs. the Marauders confrontation scene (in Hogwarts)
Entry #1

All students had finshed their dinner, and some had already returned to their Common Rooms. However, it wasn't past the bedtime yet, and the castle still buzzed with the post-dinner movement. Many students still lingered out of their Common Rooms; some were going to the library to return or borrow books, some were going to the bathrooms, some were just strolling down corridors, chattering together.

Others were, apparently, looking for trouble.

Everything was quiet and calm, the portriates along the corridor were all sleeping and snoring. It was silent untill a loud noise and some scrambling rang in that empty corridor, breaking the silence. It did not come from either end of the corridor, and the classrooms were empty, as all the classes were over for the day. Peeves the Poltergeist was guiltless as well; he'd been in the western part of the castle since the morning, plotting for an end-of-the-year prank.

Suddenly, a sleeping warlock was shaken awake from his sleep; his portriat was pushed aside roughly, almost knocking him off his armchair. There was a hole behind his portriat, from which the source of the commotion was revealed. Three third year boys jumped, or rather fell upon each other, from the hole to the corridor. Two of them shook with laughter, the third hushed them and looked around anxiously, though, the trace of a wide smile was still on his face. He scrambled to his feet and hurried to a nearby classroom, and held the door open for the other two, who eventually controlled their spasms of laughter and followed him inside.

"Where do you think we are?" asked the seemingly anxious boy. Unlike his two black-headed friends, he was brown-haired.

"Looks to me like the fifth landing", said one of the two, replacing his fallen glasses on his nose.

"Remus did not give us a chance to look around," said the third, pretending to look hurt.

"I thought Filch could be around.." Remus said, peeking around the door, "Also, I think we've had enough detentions for the year."

"But we haven't been in detention in weeks!" said the boy with glasses, "Sirius and I haven't been in detention since that time with McGonagall!"

"That's, of course, not couting the one with Professor Kettleburn, James" said Sirius, "The one you did with Sprout."

Remus laughed and added, "And when we scrubbed Filch's office, not more than ten days ago.
Well, we should meet up with Peter at the library, it's almost bedtime"

They checked the corridor once again, then set off toward the library. James and Sirius inspected the corridor and agreed that it was the fifth landing. Thanks to Sirius and Remus, they'd found a new passage form the seventh floor to the fifth.

They went down to the library, where their friend Peter was picking books for them. He was already waiting at the entrance to the library, laden with books. He was panting, but when they were near enough, he pointed at a closed classroom, and said in a wicked tone, "It's him, Snivillus is in there! He's got more books than he could carry" Peter gave a shakey laugh.

Sirius eyed him and said, "A books less than your load?"

James laughed as he approached the door, listening. But Remus, groaning internally, hurried to Peter, taking some books from his arms, "Peter's got books for all of us. Thanks Peter, you've to see the passage we found now."

Peter breathed thanks, and hurried to the classroom door. James backed away from the door and pulled his wand intending to force it open. The moment James had cast his spell, the door was opened from inside and a black-haired boy appeared where the spell was aimed.

The spell hit 'Snivillus' with enough force to knock him off his feet, and scatter the books he carried, around him. James was astonished, but he recovered quickly, as he saw Snivillus take out his wand and aim at him. Sirius pushed James aside just in time. Snivillus got to his feet, and started picking some books, stuffing them on the closest chair he could reach. Sirius meanwhile said, "The Slytherins appointed you their house-elf, Snape? Good. At least you're doing something now."

Snape's face was twisted in anger, he ignored Sirius as best as he could and aimed again at James. This time the spell hit James in the face, it sent him flying out of the classroom and right into the corridor wall. Remus helped James to his feet, urging him to go back to the Common Room, but James just approached Snape once more.

Peter went to Sirius and James' side, putting one arm around the pile of books and pulling out his wand with the other. He waved his wand and a shot of sparks flew out of it instead of the intended spell, apparently, due to his over excitment. Snape aimed once more, this time at Sirius. Sirius dodged and was well out of the danger's way, but he knocked Peter and the books flew everywhere. Snape have an angry cry.

Unfortunately, a sleepy Ms. Binns had just locked the library and was coming down the corridor where the fight took place. The sight of flying books banished the thought of a warm bed, a fat book and hot drink, from her mind. She approached the boys like an angry bull and they backed away in fear.

In a moment the books were picked, and the boys followed Binns to McGonagall's study. Remus was left alone, to return to the dormitory. He wondered as he walked, if McGonagall could come up with a detention his friends have not served before.


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  #20  
Old January 8th, 2011, 6:12 pm
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Re: Last Author Standing - Entries v.2

LAST AUTHOR STANDING
Topic: A Snape vs. the Marauders confrontation scene (in Hogwarts)
Entry #2


The Actions We Take

James was the first to emerge from the smoke. The Bubble-Head Charm that Remus had looked up for him aided him greatly in his flight from the scene of the crime. Normally he would have donned his invisibility cloak, but Sirius was currently using it to distract the professors at the other end of the castle in order to give James and the others enough time to set off the Giggle-Grenade. Frivolous-sounding enough, but it would leave anyone who passed through that corridor in complete hysterics. Not enough to send him or her to the Hospital Wing, but enough to make focusing on schoolwork extremely difficult and drive professors mental trying to maintain order. It’d taken months of tedious research on Remus’s part to figure out how exactly to pull it off, but as he walked away, the purple smoke billowing behind him, James grinned. Worth it.

Remus came next, also looking as though he had recently decided that fishbowl hats were the latest in fashion. He hadn’t wanted to come originally, but somehow or another he got dragged into the midst of it, as he usually was whenever James and Sirius wanted to pull another prank. Secretly, he didn’t mind it at all. In fact, he rather enjoyed engaging in the occasional bit of mischief, but his reputation as a good student often got in the way of that. He had a feeling that James knew how he felt, though, and that was probably the reason he always “forced” Remus to come along.

Last of all was Peter. He, of course, had jumped at the chance to be involved, as he always did when James or Sirius proposed a new plan. He truly looked up to those two; they were his idols. Cool, witty, handsome, talented, they were everything that he wanted to be. He didn’t mind living in their shadow, in fact, he felt safer in it. No one messed with the marauders; they were a close group, and they always looked out for each other.

“Oh, this is brilliant!” James said, as the three paused for a moment to admire their handy-work. “And you didn’t think we’d be able to manage it, Moony. Your lack of faith wounds me, it does. How long did you say this would last, anyway?”

“About an hour,” Remus said, “that is unless one of the professors clears it up first. C’mon, James, we should get out of here.”

James, however, appeared not to hear that last part. It was difficult to get him to listen to reason while he was still filled with the pride and satisfaction of a well-executed prank.

“Blimey, can you imagine if any of the professors inhale this? I mean the students are one thing, but the professors. Can you imagine McGonagall giggling? Or even cracking a smile?”

James laughed outright, with Peter chiming in after a few seconds. Even Remus cracked a smile.

“Or Binns, d’you suppose it works on ghosts too?” James asked.

“I doubt it,” Remus said, “seeing as they don’t need to breathe or anything. At any rate, we really should get out of here before someone shows up.”

“I suppose you’re right,” James said. “Prongs’ll be heading to the library at this point anyway.”

“I don’t know why you thought that was a good idea for an alibi,” Remus said. “No one will believe you and Sirius were busy studying this whole time.”

“Because we’re such good students that we don’t usually even need to study?” James joked.

“Because you’re so pathetic you probably don’t even know how to read, and so decide to spend your time with these ridiculous pranks that needlessly inconvenience everyone else’s lives.”

The three marauders turned and saw that there was now a fourth person standing in the corridor. He too, was protected from the smoke by a Bubble-Head Charm, but he was certainly no ally of the marauders.

“Snivellus,” James sneered. “I haven’t seen your ugly mug all day. I was beginning to hope that you’d left the school for good.”

Severus wore his usual scowl as he faced the other boys, his hand hanging casually next to his pocket, where his wand was undoubtedly stored. James noticed this and lazily dropped his hand to the same position. Behind him, Remus and Peter held their breathes and prayed the encounter wouldn’t go much further than a few verbal insults. This was not the time, nor the place, for a fight.

“If anyone is going to be leaving,” Severus said, “it’ll be you, Potter. You and your no-good friends. The professors are dying to throw you out, all they need is one excuse, one last straw, and then it’s all over for you.”

“Why don’t you go stick that greasy nose of yours into a book on the Dark Arts or something, instead of into other people’s businesses,” James said.

“You won’t get away with it this time, Potter,” Snape said, ignoring him. “The professors will be here any minute, and here you all are; the guilty party. You might be expelled this time.”

James snorted.

“I doubt they’d expel us over a bit of fun,” he said. “It’s not as if this’ll hurt anyone. In fact, why don’t you take that charm off, Snivy? You could do with a laugh, might make you look like less of a slimey git than usual, if that’s possible.”

Quicker than the eye could detect, James and Severus had their wands out and pointed at each other. Just as fast, Remus had moved to stand in between the two, with his wand pointed at Severus but his eyes on James. Peter was left standing alone, but he pulled his own wand out nonetheless in case any stray curse should come his way.

“Enough,” Remus said. “James, we don’t have time for this, we have to go. Now.”

“C’mon, Moony,” James said without taking his eyes off of Severus, “you heard him, he won’t let us leave without a fight. Besides, it won’t take long.”

Remus turned to appeal to Severus.

“Just walk away, Snape,” he said. “Don’t get involved, you’ll only wind up hurt.”

“Sorry, Lupin,” Severus said. “But unlike you, I can’t just sit and watch from the sidelines.”

He raised his wand up to launch a curse, and Remus and James prepared to send off a few of their own spells as well, when suddenly he went very still. The look of anger, determination, and pure loathing was frozen on his face as he fell forward onto the floor with a loud crash.

“So here you are,” said a voice from the air. “I thought something had gone wrong when you didn’t show up.”

The very air itself shimmered and folded as Sirius stepped out from underneath James’s invisibility cloak, wand in hand. He stepped unceremoniously over Severus’s rigid body and walked towards his friends.

“Better put the charm on, mate,” James warned him, “or you’ll be giggling like a member of St. Mungo’s permanent ward for the rest of the day.”

“It worked then?” Sirius asked, performing the spell that would protect him from the smoke, now faded but still just as potent.

“Well, we won’t know for sure unless someone walks through it, but unless someone is willing to volunteer, we’ll just have to wait,” James said.

“How about Snivellus here?” Sirius said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. “Sounds like the perfect test subject to me.”

“No, let’s not,” Remus said. He seemed to be bothered by something, and he kept glancing past Sirius to look at Snape’s body on the ground. “We should get out of here while we have the chance.”

“Hate to say it, but Moony’s probably right,” Sirius said. “Those doxies won’t keep the professors occupied for long, and they’ll be in such a foul mood that even this stuff might not work on them.”

“Alright, let’s go then,” James decided. Together the marauders left the corridor and Severus behind, two looking forward, one looking back, and one looking wherever the others were.


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