Drabbles
A drabble, if you don't know, is a mini-ficlet of a 100 words, which as you might guess is only good for a scene, a thought, a joke, etc.
It seemed a bit silly to give each of these their own page, so i just decided to consolidate them on one. If the drabble was written for a challenge, the topic of the challenge is in parentheses.
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Lucky Break
Minimum Requirements (Room of Requirement)
Vocal Talent (Crossover)
A Shocking Protest (Halloween)
Malfoys Keep It In The Family
And What the Hell Is Snarry?! (Wizard Writers)
It's For Later (Wizard Photographs)
Master Plan (Wizarding Games)
Twin Confusion
Damn Muggle Machinery (Dumbledore's Beard)
<>Raised By Wolves (Muggle Relations)
Pay Up, Gents (Wizard Photographs)
Photogenic Confessions (Wizard Photographs)
Other Means of Communication (Dreams)
Wrong Em-PHA-sis on the Wrong Syl-LAY-ble (Muggle Relations)
Smooth as Silk
Delayed Notice (Owl/Bird Post)
We Figure That Means Yes Mostly (Crossover)
Surprise Package (Owl/Bird Post)
Subconscious Desires (Owl/Bird Post)
Seriously
I Believe You Have Something of Mine (Crossover)
Any Port in a Storm (Crossover)
Hidden Fears (Boggart)
Eyeliner (Crossover)
Grasp on Reality (Thestrals)
The Scent of Blood (Thestrals)
A Prickly Situation (Pick a Sentence)
Your Attention Please!
Full Marks (OWLS Panic)
One Last Ride
Blank Pages
Perfect

Squick Drabbles
Marked By the Dark Lord (Voldemort Sex Challenge)
Gone to the Dogs (Marauder Beastiality Challenge)
And What Long Legs (Men Who Love Dragons Challenge)
Hem HEM! (Headmaster/Mistress Challenge)
Something's Afoot in Gryffindor Tower (Foot Fetish Challenge)

Marked By the Dark Lord

Harry woke with a headache and the feeling he'd done something very, very stupid the night before. He glanced around, noting he was in a strange bed, wearing an unbuttoned shirt and one sock. The other had spent the night in his mouth if taste was any indication.

He looked down to see a pale, snakey head whose owner was buried in the blankets. Harry suddenly remembered something about a tattoo. He pushed up his sleeve to reveal the lazily undulating skull and serpent he'd dreaded.

"Morning, lover," red eyes slitted opened, raked over him.

"Dammit," Harry snarled. "Not again!"

Gone To the Dogs

Sirius furrowed his brow in concentration.

"C'mon," James whispered. "It's GOT to work!"

Sirius clenched his fists and squeezed his eyes shut, and then suddenly POP!

James and Peter grinned dumbly at the huge black dog in front of them. The dog snuffled the air for a moment, then the ground, then leaned over to sniff James' crotch.

"He really is a d..." James' laugh was cut short as the dog nosed him harder, more deliberately. Breathing shallowly and red-faced, James pushed him away and Sirius reappeared.

"Sorry," he smirked. "Dog instincts, you know."

Peter edged back a step.

And What Long Legs

"What are you doing?" Arthur leaned into Charlie's room.

"He's got those magazines, Arthur," Molly pursed her lips, rooting around underneath their teenage son's mattress.

"Eh?" Arthur looked perplexed

"You know the sort I mean," Molly sniffed disdainfully. "If the twins should find them, or Ron, just imagine, he's only a baby...a-HA!"

Molly yanked out a magazine by the corner and brandished it in the air. The predictable three page centerfold shook loose and unfolded itself. Molly shrieked indignantly and refused to look.

"You see what I mean?" she demanded.

"Hmm," Arthur replied, peering closer. "What a beautiful Chinese Fireball."

Hem HEM

"What?" Umbridge narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"It's only right, you know," McGonagall continued loftily. "The Squid does protect the school, so it isn't surprising that he should want to meet each new Headmaster...personally."

Umbridge glared at all the other professors gathered with her by the lake. They all smiled back professionally.

"It's not so bad," McGonagall nudged her closer to the water's edge. "I rather enjoyed it myself a few years ago. And Dumbledore...well, you know about that man and marine life..."

"Hem HEM!" Umbridge exclaimed as a tentacle slipped out of the water and up her skirt.

Something's Afoot in Gryffindor Tower

She crept closer stealthily to the end of the bed and silently slid the covers back to reveal the perfect foot, the five perfect toes wiggling in the sudden draft. She gazed at them reverently for a long moment before lowering her head to gently take the biggest one into her mouth. She anticipated the delicate taste of...

....WET NAIL POLISH?!

She spat the toe back out as the light was flicked on suddenly.

"A-HA!" Hermione shouted, then stared. "You?"

Ginny's ears flushed as she tried to scrape the polish off her tongue.

"Oh, Ginny...first the socks, now TOES? Honestly."

Lucky Break

    Maybe it was the painkillers talking, but Lily couldn't remember a time when she had loved the two dark-haired men sitting next to her hospital bed more.

    James was brilliant and brave, rather dashing actually. He was a damn fool for talking her into marrying him so young, but a cute romantic.

    Sirius was thrilling and dangerous, and even though Lily nagged him constantly about it, she secretly loved clinging to him on his ridiculous flying motorbike.

    Lily beamed down at her new dark-haired son, then at the two dark-haired men.

    It really was fortunate they looked so much alike.

Minimum Requirements

    “Do you remember that room at school?” Draco asked randomly. “The one that had whatever you needed?”
    “Sure,” Ron answered. “The Room of Requirement. We held DA meetings there. I didn’t know you knew about it.”
    “I stumbled upon it,” Draco said. Ron raised an eyebrow. “I was a very sexually tense teenager, you know. I was in desperate need of some relief.”
    “So what was in the room, then?” Ron inquired, positive Draco was having him on.
    “Nubile virgins,” Draco replied with a perfectly straight face. “Loads of them. Undulating.”
    Ron laughed until he thought he’d begun bleeding internally.

Vocal Talent

    HARRY POTTER. I'VE COME FOR YOU.

    "About time," Harry said, relieved. "Maybe there'll be peace and quiet when I'm dead."

    I'M NOT HERE IN AN OFFICIAL CAPACITY. Death sounded sheepish. I NEED THE NIGHT OFF. I WAS WONDERING IF YOU MIGHT COVER FOR ME.

    "What?" Harry demanded. "Why me?"

    YOU'VE GOT THE VOICE.

    "What Voice?"

    AN IMPRESSIVE VOICE IT IS, TOO. YOU DID IT SOLID FOR OVER 800 PAGES IN THAT PHOENIX THING. EVEN I USUALLY ONLY GO FOR TWO OR THREE HUNDRED PAGES AT A CLIP.

    Someone knocked on the door.

    "LEAVE ME ALONE!" Harry shouted.

    PERFECT, Death smiled.   

A Shocking Protest

    "You go as a Muggle every year!" Molly snapped. "You're going to go as something different and that's final!"

    "But dear…" Arthur protested.

    "If you say another word," Molly interrupted, "I'm going to plug up your mouth!"

    Something sparked in Arthur's eyes.

*******

    There was a moment of silence as 12 Grimmauld Place took in Arthur's costume. He'd charmed himself brown all over, even his skin, and three metal bars stuck straight up from his head. A brown cord trailed behind him like a tail.

    "Molly tell you to plug up?" Tonks finally laughed.

    "Not what I meant," Molly sniffed.

<>Malfoys Keep it In the Family
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    Draco's jaw ached, but he didn't stop, didn't say a word about it. Malfoys did not complain.

    There was a host of other things Malfoys did not do, a nearly endless list force-fed to Draco since birth. Malfoys did not run in the hallways. Malfoys did not slouch. Malfoys did not have friends, only allies. Malfoys did not discuss family matters with outsiders. Malfoys never, ever talked about family problems with family members.

    Draco didn't swallow fast enough and a line of liquid dribbled down his stiff jaw. Lucius backhanded him, sending him sprawling.

    Apparently, Malfoys also did not spit.

And What the Hell is Snarry?!

    Snape stormed into Dumbledore's office and slammed down several parchments on the desk.

    "I've caught four more of them at it in my class!" he snarled. "Pretending to take notes, and scribbling this rubbish!"

    "Severus," Dumbledore inquired, "what exactly is your problem with fanfiction?"

    "They don't even have the decency to make up their own characters! It's right to the smut! Some of the characters are GAY in this lot! You've got to do something!"

    "Tell me, do you own a green sweater?" Dumbledore asked placidly.

    "No!" Snape snapped. "I hate green! What does that have to do with anything?"

It's For Later


"What d'you want a picture for?" Harry snapped. "You're right here, aren't you?"

"It's erotic," Terry stressed each syllable. "And it's for later, not now, idiot."

"It's not even a wizard camera!" Harry exclaimed in exasperation.

"It's better that way," Terry insisted, wiggling the Muggle one-step camera coaxingly. "Then all the sex is in your mind, you can't just watch it, you have to imagine it."

Harry grunted, but was obviously about to cave in, like always.

"The brain is the biggest sex organ, you know," Terry smirked. He looked Harry up and down slowly. "Biggest one you've got, anyways."

The Master Plan

    "Wait, I've got one!" Crabbe giggled. "Any wizard captured will have his pants removed and sent to the Pants Examination Division. Should Potter's pants be confiscated, the pants should be considered extremely dangerous, and only the Dark Lord will be allowed to handle the pants."

    "Listen to this!" Lucius howled. "Dumbledore's pants lift immense weights,  come to the aid of his followers, and shed healing tears! Extreme caution advised if his pants is spotted!"

    "What's going on in here?!" Voldemort demanded, slamming open the door.

    "Just reviewing your Master Plan," Lucius covered smoothly.

    "Master Pants," Wormtail snickered under his breath.

Twin Confusion

    "George," Remus greeted as the twin came into the kitchen. He greeted the second twin with an identical "Fred."

    "I'm George," said the second Weasley.

    "I'm Fr…" the first twin was already starting their usual routine when he suddenly peered closer. "Hey, you are George! Wait, who the hell am I then?"

    Remus finally looked up from his tea to see two absolutely identical Weasleys comparing freckles on their arms. When a third Weasley twin strode through the door, Remus caught on and howled with laughter.

    Tonks grinned broadly with George's face. She knew she could make Remus laugh first.

Damn Muggle Machinery

"Hmm," Albus Dumbledore said to his empty office. "This is quite a problem."

He pulled. He twisted. He rolled the lever backwards and the cogs ground uselessly. He wound the lever forward and gave an undignified "URK!" as he became even more ensnared.

Finally, he admitted there was only one solution.

"Accio Scissors!" he called. A desk drawer opened and silver flew into his hand. Taking a deep breath, he solved the problem with several violent snips of the blades and straightened up with relief.

The next morning he announced that pencil sharpeners were now banned from the Hogwarts¹ grounds.

Raised By Wolves

Remus sat quietly on the park bench, eating the sandwich he had just bought from a street vendor. A Muggle sat down on the other end of the bench and began unwrapping his own sandwich, which was wrapped in foil. He stopped what he was doing suddenly and stared at Remus.

"Hey," he said, "you got that ordinary un-toasted sub instead of the toasted Philly Cheesteak sub from Quiznos? What, were you raised by wolves?"

Remus stopped chewing and stared at the Muggle thoughtfully, and finally a small smile crept over his face.

"Yes, I was," he replied easily. "Hmm."

Pay Up, Gents

"Ha!" James threw the photo down in front of the Sirius and Remus. "Let's see some galleons, boys!"

"It's got to be a forgery!" Sirius peered closer at the picture. "And we bet you a sickle each, not galleons!"

"Sickles if I did it," James corrected, "Galleons if she LIKED it."

"Who took this?" Remus asked. Peter coughed embarrassedly.

They watched the glossy Lily moan silently for another minute before Sirius dropped the picture back on the table. He and Remus dug out their coins and tossed them to James in disgust.

James pocketed the photo. Might want it later.

Photogenic Confessions

"What did you want to tell us?"

The other Seventh Year girls stared up at Lily expectantly, and she felt the stiff paper in her hand crumple slightly. She threw it down on the table abruptly, glaring at it like she could scorch it to ashes.

The other girls peered at the photo, then gasped. An underexposed James had Lily crushed against a wall and was sucking her neck vampiricly.

"It doesn't mean anything!" Linda reassured. "They just develop like that sometimes, even if you've never done anything like it!"

Lily nervously fingered the collar that was hiding her bruises.

Other Means of Communication

Remus awoke suddenly from a dream he couldn't quite remember, but the feel of Sirius' hair lingered on his fingertips. Sighing, he got up and went into the kitchen to make himself some tea. In the kitchen, the macaw that had delivered Sirius' message to him was perched on a chair, looking better after a night of rest.

He was halfway through his second cup of tea before the macaw spoke.

"Sirius... oh god Sirius... RAWK...harder, Sirius, yes..."

Remus spit tea across the table as his dream rushed back to him.

"That bastard sent a parrot on purpose!" he roared.

Wrong Em-PHA-sis on the Wrong Syl-LAY-ble

"Stay the night, Sirius!"

"No, if reason gave way to passion you might become pregnant and be forever burdened with my likeness!"

"Honestly, Peter," James sighed. "Again?"

"I was just trying to change!" Peter wailed. "This damn charm is hard!"

"I think I'm a girl in real life...do you still want to?"

"Yes. You've touched my soul!"

"Finite Incantum!" James said to Remus and Sirius, tapping them with his wand. They stopped, mid-word and Sirius laughed nervously.

"Anime-gus again?" Remus asked, blushing.

"Yes," James sounded disgusted. "It's always you two! If I didn't know better, I'd think you LIKED it!"

Smooth as Silk

Draco hated Blaise Zabini as he scratched his knee through his robes.

He had no idea how Blaise had talked him into shaving his legs. He thought Imperio might have been involved, Zabinis were known for their finesse with that Unforgivable.

Draco remembered him insisting it would feel good, really good, and it had for a few hours. What he had NOT mentioned was that his legs would itch like the dickens for the next week until the hair grew back.

I'm going to get him, Draco snarled silently. I'm replacing his shampoo with hair dye. MAGENTA hair dye. Poof.

Delayed Notice

Remus went cold with apprehension as the haggard owl swooped in and dropped a crumpled scrap of paper. Smoothing it out nervously, Remus noticed it wasn't signed, but he would have recognized that dark scrawl in a second, nearly illegible with the haste of the author.

James and Lily, but not Harry. Peter's next. You'll understand soon.

PS-


The letter broke off there, unfinished. Remus had assumed that the missing line would confess Sirius' defection to Voldemort.

Thirteen years later, a toucan landed on Remus' breakfast table, dropping another scrap of paper in front of him.

PS- I love you.

We Figure That Means Yes Mostly

"I can't even believe you," Hermione rolled her eyes as the school owl delivered her Daily Prophet at breakfast.

"I don't see what the problem is," Ron sniffed. "Ginny needed an owl, you know I wanted a different one, so she's happy, Pig's happy...and I'm happy."

"But honestly," Hermione started, but Ron cut her off.

"Oh, just drop it," he snapped. He lifted his spoon to find a bright blue feather floating in the milk. He glared at his new mail carrier.

"RAWK!" the macaw whistled. "Welcome aboard!"

"I wish I'd never taken you to see that movie," Hermione complained.

Surprise Package

Lily looked up sharply when she heard scrabbling claws and saw James' owl on her desk.

"NO!" she screamed at it. "Go away! I'm NOT forgiving him this time!"

The owl hooted and hopped up and down in agitation, mussing up her papers.

"SHOO!" she yelled, charging the owl and waving her arms.

The owl hooted louder, and when she tried to push it back out the window, nipped her hard enough to draw blood. It kicked a small package at Lily and took off angrily.

The package paper had been torn open in the scuffle. A ring fell out.

Subconscious Desires

"That's the third time this week!" Sirius roared, storming into the dormitory, waving an unsent letter. "Remus, I can't get a bloody letter mailed because your owl is ALWAYS shagging mine!"

"I know," Remus sounded pained. "I've got Peter reading a book on owl behavior. Have you turned up anything?"

"No," Peter answered from his desk, "but it did say that owls can pick up nonverbal clues from their owners and act out their repressed desires. Isn't that interesting?"

Sirius began to cough loudly and Remus fled the room, face bright red.

"What?" Peter asked, perplexed. "What did I say?"

Seriously

"Seriously," James asked. "How long?"

About five seconds, Sirius thought. But damned if I'm telling you that.

"It depends," he said out loud.

"It does NOT," James pressed. "You obviously know, I can tell! How long before you slept with the girl?"

It was all well and good for James to ask. He hadn't secretly lusted after one of his best friends for six years and been caught moaning his name. Clearly it only took five seconds after that.

Sirius looked across the table and locked eyes with Remus.

"I'm not having sex with a girl until I marry one."

I Believe You Have Something of Mine

"Ahem."

Sirius cleared his throat, glaring at the red-haired Ravenclaw girl.

"Yes?" she tried to look innocent.

"I believe you have something that belongs to me, Sprunk," he said pointedly.

Sara sighed and dug around in her robe pocket before producing a stick of eyeliner.

"AND the other," Sirius held out his hand.

"Do I have to?" Sara whined. "I've got such great plans for him. You can play too," she offered.

Sirius glared harder and waved his hand firmly. Sara handed Remus's leash over with huge sigh.

"Maybe you should take better care of your things, then," she grumbled.

Any Port in a Storm

"Professor Potter?" a first year waved his hand in the air. "Can I go to the bathroom?"

The Dark Arts Professor stared at the First Year wordlessly, a black parrot perched on his shoulder. Another nearby student leaned over.

"Professor Potter had his tongue cut out in the Final Battle," the second student explained quietly. "So he trained the parrot to talk for him, no one's yet figured how."

"Er," the student said dubiously, "Professor Potter's parrot: Same question!"

"RAWK!" the parrot answered. "Wind in yer sails!"

"We figure that means yes, mostly," the second student informed the first .

Hidden Fears

"You're the worst!" James heard Sirius yell as he entered the dormitory.

"Are you having a go at Remus again?!" James demanded, already in a foul temper from a bad Quidditch practice. "And how did you get up here before me?!"

Remus whirled around, blushing.

"Who's having a go at Remus?" Sirius asked, appearing in the doorway.

James turned back around to see no one but Remus in the room, and his Cleansweep lying on the ground in pieces. He glanced at the broom in his hand before he remembered the Boggart he had hidden in Remus' desk last week.

Eyeliner

Remus couldn't breathe.

"Good lord, man!" James exclaimed. "What's on your face?!"

"Is that eyeliner?" Peter asked. "How on earth does Sirius manage to make eyeliner look masculine?"

"I think he should take it off, don't you, Moony?" James elbowed Remus, who was suffering from full-body paralysis.

He wished very much that Sirius would do away with the eyeliner before the paralysis wore off, because otherwise he was going to A) have one hell of an orgasm and B) tackle Sirius to the ground, and he was not quite sure in which order those two things were going to happen.

Grasp on Reality

"Parent teacher conference!" Ron spat. "What is that awful Muggle teacher on about now?! I wanted to send our daughter to proper wizard primary school, but noooo, you said..."

"Relax!" Hermione snapped. "She's just doing her job. It says right here: ' I've noticed young Miss Weasley has no grasp on reality'."

"My daughter, with no grasp on reality?" Ron shouted. "Ridiculous!"

"It says she colored a horse purple today in class," Hermione continued reading the note.

"It's no bloody wonder," Ron howled, "since she owns about TWO MILLION pink and blue and PURPLE My Little Thestrals!"

The Scent of Blood

At first, Hermione thought Ron was nudging her bottom, but when she turned, he wasn't anywhere near her.

"Harry?" she asked abruptly. "Is there a Thestral about?"

"Over there," Harry waved.

"Why would a Thestral be interested in you?" Ron interrupted.

"Well" Hermione was flustered, "I've just had...I mean, I've got my..."

"What?!" Ron demanded. "Lord, woman, you'd think it was that time of the month or something!"

Hermione face paled, then she broke Ron's nose.

As Harry was leading Ron to the infirmary, he privately considered asking Dumbledore to add a Muggle Sexual Education class to the Hogwarts catalogue.

A Prickly Situation

On the way to the pond, Bill, Charlie and Harry found Ginny naked with a hedgehog. Diving behind a bush, she quickly explained that she was on her way to go skinny dipping with Hermione, but had been sidetracked by the curiously tame hedgehog.

"He even let me pet him!" Ginny grinned.

"Put it down and let's go, Gin!" Charlie urged. He glanced at Harry. "You can wear my T-shirt."

Ginny obediently set it down and scurried out of the bush. After they were gone, the hedgehog disappeared with a 'pop!' and a queasy looking Ron appeared.

"Just...wanted...to...see...Hermione..." he gasped.

Your Attention Please!

Inspired by this thread about this icon:

.

Lucius stepped out onto the stage, the spotlight bleaching his pale features to a ghostly sheen. He held up his cane and glared at the audience for a moment. Then he spoke:

"My cane will now do an impression of the Headmaster," he announced.

"Lemon drop! Lemon drop!" the cane 'squeaked' while Lucius' lips moved perceptibly.

"Does it seem to you," McGonagall turned in her seat to ask Sprout, "that the alumni talent competition gets stranger every year?"

Sprout shrugged.

"Now," Lucius was still performing, "he will do it while I drink a glass of water..."

"Gurgle," said the cane.

Full Marks

A response drabble to Math Panicby Violetisblue


"What are you doing?" Neville actually felt himself get angry, something that didn't happen too often.

"Full Marks," the witch repeated slowly. "On your way, Mr. Longbottom."

"You listen here," Neville hissed just quiet enough that no one else could hear. Yet. "That test might be awful, it might be the worst Arithmancy test ever graded, but it's MINE, dammit! So you put it on the other pile, and I'll take MY grade, thank you very much!"

The witch and Neville stared at each other for a long moment.

"Seems you're a Longbottom after all," she said, moving the paper.

One Last Ride

Cedric reluctantly landed his broom when night began falling. He should've been studying for NEWTS, or practicing for the Third Task, but Cedric couldn't resist one last ride across the Quidditch pitch on a brilliant summer's afternoon.

Leaning on his broom, Cedric savored a final veiw of the grass and goalposts, remembering the rush of the game, his teammates' shouting, the roaring crowd. All the things he would miss most after graduation.

"Goodbye, Quidditch Pitch!" he shouted as the twilight swallowed the far hoops, laughing at his own silliness.

After all, he'd be here next fall for Hufflepuff's first game.

Blank Pages

"I hate starting an essay," Colin sighs. "The way the blank page just stares up at you."

Ginny grunts her agreement, staring at her parchment. She reaches out suddenly and slashes her name and title across the top in abrupt, violent strokes. Then she waits, fidgeting with her quill, hardly blinking.

Virginia Weasley, the Uses of Boomslang Skin.

Nothing happens. The ink simply dries, not absorbing into the page. Her letters remain inert where she has drawn them, spelling out only what she has written.

Nobody hates blank pages more than Ginny.

Still looking vaguely suspicious, Ginny starts her essay.

Perfect

Perfect.

Harry relished the feel of a well-cast Finger Numbing Charm slipping covertly from his wand and striking its target. He enjoyed the clink of a quill falling to the stone floor of the dungeon, and the soft curse of its owner. He delighted in the blond boy's glare and the knowledge that the quill's owner had to know by now that he was causing it, HAD to, since he'd cast the charm four times that class alone. Most of all, Harry savored the sight of Draco bending over to pick up his quill.

Harry gave a soft, blissful sigh.

Perfect.


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