Quill and Parchment Night
Once again, society members challenged themselves to a creative evening and tested out their writing skills. Given a bizarre variety of prompts, they created fanfiction and even a cartoon.
Five More Minutes by Izzy
Yesterday by Oz
Romeo and Juliet by Sarah (and Kat)
Board Meeting by Tasha
Babysitting by Plum
Revenge by Hannah
Stripping Politics by Emma
Exaggerated Dragon Encyclopaedia by Cat
Woolworths by Alex
Harry Potter and the Giant Toothpaste by Emily and Laurel
Five More Minutes by Izzy
Remus Lupin was very nervous. He’d been through it before, obviously. The lies, the pain, waking up in the morning with fresh wounds. It was becoming harder to hide it, as James and Sirius kept asking awkward questions.
“Where are you going?” James had asked for the umpteenth time.
“Nowhere,” Remus had replied, forcing him to go to bed and wait for his friend to fall asleep. It was dangerous, he knew. What if the full moon came out early? It could have deadly consequences.
But Remus, in what seemed like a vain effort to keep his secret, found himself sneaking out just before darkness fell.
Just as Remus was about to exit, he heard a faint voice from the other side of the Gryffindor common room entrance.
“Password?”
Remus froze. He could feel his heart beating loudly, wondering who the Fat Lady had addressed.
“I’m waiting for someone,” came the reply. Remus’ heart leapt. He’d recognise that voice anywhere. Grinning broadly, Remus bounded forwards and through the open portrait door.
“Severus,” he whispered excitedly, the sweet scent of thyme reaching him. Severus was a huge potions expert, so often smelled of herbs after a moment of inspiration had hit.
“Remus,” Severus whispered back, looking at the Fat Lady suspiciously. “Follow me,” he said.
The corridors of Hogwarts castle were cold and dark. Even though it was summer and light outside, the candles inside the castle were off in order to discourage students from leaving their beds.
When out of sight from the Fat Lady, Severus kissed Remus tenderly, and they continued walking in silence. Remus didn’t know where Severus was taking him, nor cared. Before long, Severus ground to a halt and Remus realised they were standing outside the Prefect’s Bathroom.
“Fancy a bath?” asked Severus with a small smile on his face. Remus thought of the full moon and the danger if it went dark, but then he looked at Severus’s face and all this problems vanished.
No need to worry, he thought as he followed Severus and closed the door behind him. Five more minutes won’t hurt.
Yesterday by Oz
Yesterday, everything seemed for easy. It’s a cliché, and normally he’d hate that, but the usual thing about clichés is that they’re so fucking true. In his head, he can still see the way they were. There were going to be perfect - well, maybe not perfect - but they were supposed to fit. Remus and Sirius. The two canines. Two Marauders. Light and dark, two Gryffindors from opposite backgrounds who will just go off and have puppies together, beaten only by Romeo and Juliet in the whole romance games.
They weren’t supposed to fall apart at the seams. Remus was supposed to be happy with what they had. He was supposed to put up with Sirius flirting with everything that moved, with sneaking around, with just being the quiet sidekick to Sirius and James.
Today, the world doesn’t seem to work quite right. Remus has punched him, yelling and screaming in the middle of the Great Hall. This isn’t like before when they’ll fight and Sirius will sulk until crashing back into Remus’ bed, apologies transferred into kisses and touches. This is new. This is public. This means Remus has moved on already, turning into Snape’s arms with the slimy bastard smirking a revenge into Sirius’ eyes.
The past has gone, then. The future looks like a bitch, and Sirius is lacking the power to change it.
Romeo and Juliet by Sarah (and Kat)
“Summer holidays at last!” sighed Professor McGonagall.
“Looking forward to the play tonight, Minerva?” asked Professor Flitwick, adjusting his priest’s collar to a more rakish angle.
“Well, it will be a miracle if it comes off without a hitch,” replied McGonagall. “If our two leading actors don’t kill each other for starters. What Albus was thinking picking Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, I don’t know.”
“I was a little surprised at his choice for the title characters,” agreed Flitwick. “Lockhart as Romeo?”
“Yes,” mused McGonagall. “Although I must admit Severus does look rather fetching in a dress. Who knew purple was his colour?”
“Merline knows what he would do if the students ever found out.”
McGonagall smiled a sneaky little smile. “Yes, imagine if the paparazzi got hold of it… do you have Rita Skeeter’s number?”
Board Meeting by Tasha
Meetings of the Hogwarts school governors were never pleasant affairs. Despite the tea and biscuits that were provided, there was nothing quite like the company.
Harry gave the newest arrival a curt nod. “Hello.”
“Evening, Potter.” Draco seemed to be unconcerned by how late he was, sliding languidly into his high-backed chair next to Harry.
Glancing sideways during the discussion of new Quidditch robes for the house teams, Harry felt a foot brush against his calf. Malfoy’s face was a carefully schooled expression of contempt, even as his hand rested on Harry’s knee.
Harry took a hasty sip of his water. These monthly meeting were either too frequent or too infrequent. He wasn’t quite sure which.
No, there was nothing quite like the company.
Babysitting by Plum
Neville sighed heavily. Much as he loved Hugo and Rose, the company of two small children for two nights in a row was slightly boring.
All they did at the moment was sleep, eat and cry. He couldn’t wait until they got big enough to be interesting.
A thin, reedy cry came floating down the stairs and Neville sighed again. Back on guard duty. He climbed the stairs to the twins’ bedroom quickly, socked feet carrying him silently along. By the time he reached the bedroom, the single cry had doubled.
He waved his wand vaguely in the direction of the nightlight, increasing its glow, then shuffled over to the cot where the two wailing babes lay. Picking them up, one in each arm, he rocked them whilst humming softly under his breath.
As the two dozed back off again slowly, Neville sighed once more.
He laid the two sleeping children back in their shared cot and turned the light back down with a wave.
As he made his way back downstairs, he muttered to himself. “I don’t care how busy they are, I really can’t do this again tomorrow.”
Even as he said it he smiled wanly, knowing that if it came down to it, he would be the children’s guard whenever he was needed.
Revenge by Hannah
Hermione Granger rose furiously and glared at Ron with intense venom in her eyes.
“Shut up, Ronald Weasley! I am not boring!”
“Well, sorry, but you’re talking about the ‘interconnectedness’ of this and the ‘spatial ratio’ of that…”
Before Ron could say anymore, Hermione slapped his face and ran out of the room. How she hated Thursdays! (And Ron.)
Ron stared at her in shock and Harry gazed on with a distinctly fish-like expression.
“Oh, you’ve really done it this time,” said Ginny, sighing.
“What did I do?” Ron asked in complete bewilderment.
“You are so dense, Ron. You understand Harry, don’t you?”
“She over-reacted a little-”
“Boys!” Ginny threw up her hands and stalked off as well.
***
Meanwhile, Hermione had made her way outside to the lake, and say there sobbing piteously.
“Herm-o-ninny, vat is vrong?” said a kindly voice, definitely not English.
Hermione turned. “Viktor? Oh, Viktor.” She threw herself on him and burst into tears. In shock, Viktor just patted her on the back and muttered, “It’s okay.” After a while, Hermione calmed down a little, enough to ask, “But what are you doing here?”
“I haf come to judge the water broomstick trick competition.”
Hermione was meanwhile staring into Viktor’s eyes dreamily. I wish Ron was like Viktor, she thought.
***
The next day was the competition. Both Ron were entering. Meanwhile Hermione had come up with a plan to get Ron back. It mostly involved string and Icky Sticky Weed.
As Ron was performing his water aerobatics he found himself entangled in string that was strung across the lake. The Icky Sticky Weed, which was attached to the string, wrapped around Ron and he fell into the water.
Momentarily, he was fished out by the giant squid and thrown onto the side. Everyone laughed as he was wrapped in weed, his broomstick sticking out between his legs, his arms stuck to his sides.
Hermione was at the front of the crowd and was nearly collapsing with laughter. Ron glared at her and promptly fell over.
Revenge was sweet.
Stripping Politics by Emma
The weather outside was blowing a gale, the windows were howling as snowflakes battered at the glass. Sat on the sofa, before a blazing fire were two men, one with dark hair and glasses, the other with ginger locks and a peculiar looking jumper. Hermione, Ron’s wife, had been taken, grudgingly, to the Boxing Day sales; two for one on buzzing brooms - who could refuse? That left the two men babysitting or, as was happening, drinking their way through the Yuletide Mead.
“After all these years, I can’t believe you still humour your mum,” snorted Harry into the brown bottle, casting a derisive glance at Ron’s sweater, depicting a wizarding version of the nativity tableau.
“I forgot I had it on,” Ron laughed, looking down at his own chest, caressing one of the stars that just so happened to rest over his left nipple.
“You should really take it off,” commented Harry, looking at Ron over his glasses, the mead caught in his throat, as he paused drinking in hesitation, wondering if that had been the right thing to say.
He needn’t have worried as Ron whipped off his top and promptly declared, running his fingertips through this trickle of chest hair, “Now it’s your turn. Fair’s fair.”
Harry couldn’t argue with that and so proceeded to pull his green top over his head.
“Stripping politics,” he declared, throwing it aside.
“When the wives are away, the cats will play,” smirked the now half-naked ginger, getting up to fetch more bottles from the kitchen, before sitting back down, his head now rested in Harry’s lap, his feet perched on the arm of the sofa.
“Hermione would kill you if she knew you had your feet on the furniture,” Harry teased, running his fingers through Ron’s locks, tugging on the ends.
“If she walked in right now, I think that’s the last thing she’d be concerned about, don’t you?” he replied, tilting his head back slightly to meet Harry’s eyes.
“And that would be the point of secretly fucking.” Harry fixed Ron with a hard glare and lowered his voice. “Now shut up and kiss me.”
Exaggerated Dragon Encyclopaedia by Cat
Harry walked down the corridor and entered the library. Even though it was late and starting to get dark, there was no way anyone could miss the large, half-giant Hagrid blocking one of the aisles in between the stacks at the back of the library. As Harry approached unnoticed, he saw that his large friend was intently reading a book called Exaggerated Dragon Encyclopaedia. The book was emerald green with the title embossed in silver in a somewhat seductive-looking font. Underneath was a picture of a dragon that appeared to be trying to seduce the onlooker, although he couldn’t be certain as he had never seen quite a sight before.
“Hi, Hagrid! Good book? Is it for class?” Harry asked, still perplexed.
“HARRY!” Hagrid yelled, jumping up and knocking over a stack. “Oh yeah, it’s for class. Which I should be getting to now. BYE!” Hagrid said hurriedly, running out of the library.
After digging himself out of the pile of fallen books, Harry returned to the common room to tell his friends about Hagrid’s peculiar behaviour.
“So he was reading a book and ran out fast?” Hermione asked.
“Yeah,” said Harry.
“I know how he feels. Books can be a scary thing,” said Ron.
“Ron! I think he was more scared of being found than the of the book,” said Hermione. “What was he reading?”
“Just a book for class, Exaggerated Dragon Encyclopaedia,” said Harry, to which they burst into laughter. “What’s so funny?”
“It’s a fetish book mate,” Ron said through the laughter.
“It describes things no sane person would want to do with a dragon. Or someone dressed as one. Pretty weird.”
“So… not for class, then?” Harry asked.
“No,” they said in unison.”
Woolworths by Alex
Draco Malfoy was lost.
His original bet with Pansy had gone seriously askew as it was apparent that he was lost in Muggle London. His frequent swearing kept gaining his some strange glances off some of the Muggles, yet a slight sneer in their direction had them quickly looking away.
Any normal person in this situation may have admitted defeat and Apparated home, but he had decided that he wasn’t lost, merely… detained somewhere.
He glared at the blazing sun which, despite the heat-repelling charm on his skin, he could still feel burning. He walked past one store and felt a gust of cool air flow through the doors. He immediately stopped and gazed into the dark, cool interior. The red, glaring sign of ‘Woolworths’ was lit above his head, but no-one could see the internal war that was going on inside his head: cool air versus the Muggle-ness.
A particularly cool burst of air made up his mind for him and, before he knew it, he was standing in the cold, shadowy interior. It was ecstasy.
His eyes adjusted to the new light and a variety of sweets became visible amongst drinks and toys and things he couldn’t even name. Draco would never like Muggles, but he couldn’t deny they had style.
His contemplation was cut short as he caught sight of a suspiciously familiar head of black hair. His body swerved around immediately and it was indeed Harry bloody Potter. Of all the times to see him!
He quickly looked for a place to hide and swiftly walked to the nearest shelves and tried to look deeply interested. His hideout didn’t last long though, as only a minute later he felt a presence behind him and an incredulous voice said, “Malfoy?” Draco plastered a sneer on his face and turned to face the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice.
“Potter.” He hadn’t changed in the two years since the war ended. Those green eyes still looked out from crooked glasses and he still wore the most ill-fitting clothes known to man. But Merlin’s big pants, he wore them well.
“What are you doing here?” Potter’s voice was laughingly high and his cheeks slightly pink.
“I’m not lost,” Draco blurted out before he could stop himself. Before he even had a chance to be annoyed with himself, Potter’s eyes started sparkling with laughter.
“Right. Well, I’m just about finished here. Fancy walking to Diagon Alley with me?” Potter’s question was carefully posed so as to not hit at Draco’s infamous pride.
In this case, Draco’s decision was a quick one. Stay in Muggle London until Merlin knows what time, or walk with Potter and at least maintain a sense of independence.
“Lead the way, Scarhead.”
Once again, Potter’s eyes let him know that he was amused, but he refrained from commenting and they swiftly left the shop.
Their embarrassingly short walk to Diagon Alley was silent and they arrived at The Leaky Cauldron in record timing. Just before opening the door, Potter paused and looked at Draco.
“I don’t suppose you fancy a drink and a bit of a catch-up?” This question was hesitant and Draco was fully prepared to give an extremely rude rejection.
“I suppose I could be convinced to eat some chocolate fudge cake.”
Harry Potter and the Giant Toothpaste by Emily and Laurel
To view this cartoon, click here.