The rest of the drabbles

[angeleledhwen]

TMI

"Harry, what're you doing?" Hermione's voice came from behind him, and Harry hurriedly turned the parchment over before he could read any more. For a moment he wondered if he was smudging the ink, but there were other things he had to deal with first.

"Uh. Nothing, really," he said.

"Nothing." She raised a sceptical eyebrow. She'd been doing that a lot, recently.

"Okay. Well, actually I'm writing a letter to my pen-friend. Her name's Nita, and she's learning magic in America. It's really interesting..."

As Harry continued to speak, Hermione sighed quietly and wondered why on earth she'd asked.

(Crossover with Diane Duane's 'Young Wizards' series.)




'In a cold dark prison cell a young man sits alone, reflecting on his actions.'

The Not-so-cunning Plan

Ron sat cross-legged on the cold, hard stone floor, his head in his hands, and wondered what on earth he had done. It had seemed like the obvious answer, the best way to go up in the world. They had been losing the war, and he hadn't seen any way they could win.

So he'd switched sides, openly.

And Harry had pulled another miracle out of god-knew-where, and killed Voldemort, and most of the rest of the Death Eaters. But Ron and a few others had survived and now he sat here, in Azkaban.

Not such a good idea, then.




Performance Anxiety

Lily woke suddenly as a scream rang through the dormitory, easily piercing the curtains of her bed. Scrambling out of her mattress' grasp, she hurried to Viola's bedside, joined by the other girls. "Vi?" she asked quietly, "Is everything all right?"

"Just... a nightmare," came the shaky voice. Lily parted Viola's curtains cautiously and peered in.

"Want to talk?"

The other girl shook her head, but words spilled out anyway. "It was terrible! I'd forgotten everything! For every exam! Couldn't answer a single question!"

Lily bit back a smile - OWL terror again - and concentrated on comforting her distraught friend.




Simple Pleasures

Although the majority of his students would not have thought it, Professor Severus Snape did, in fact, know how to be happy. This was what made him so - the sight of a well-organised workroom, scrubbed benches, stocked shelves, a cauldron over a fire. The smell of rosemary and musk, with an undertone of vinegar. The gentle clink of ladle against cauldron, the swish of robes as he moved. The smooth wood of the knife handle held firm in his palm as he chopped. The instinctive knowledge of the moment - just then - to stop. The taste of another immaculately prepared potion.





Fancy Meeting You Here...

It was very dark here. Wherever 'here' was. Sirius looked around in utter bewilderment, trying to process what on earth was going on. A minute ago he'd been fighting for his life, and it had all been chaos, and then...

"HELLO," said a voice behind him, and he spun around to face a skeleton - a very tall skeleton - with a scythe.

He blinked. "You must be... but you can't be... I mean... it's not possible... is it?" He sounded like a complete idiot, he realised, and decided to shut up.

"DEATH, YES."

"Ah. I see." It seemed he'd lost, then.

(Crossover of course with Terry Pratchett's Discworld)