Read over the drabbles and choose one most favorite and one least favorite drabble. While reading, keep in mind the prompt and word count restrictions. Once you've chosen, put the number of each drabble in the corresponding box at the end of this post. Please remember to put number of the drabble and not the name; it makes it a lot easier for us to keep track. Each most favorite vote will receive +1 point and each least favorite vote will receive -1 point. The drabble with the most points will win the challenge! Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.
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Enough babble, onto the drabbles!
PROMPT: Contentment vs. Dissatisfaction
"Conflict is the beginning of consciousness." -M. Esther Harding
WORD COUNT: 300 words exactly
WORD COUNT: 300
"I want to move, Harry," Pansy whined at him. "I hate this place."
Harry shrugged. "I don't see why."
"It's dark and dingy, and all the history..."
"This is my home, Pansy. Sirius gave it to me, and it reminds me of him," Harry said darkly. "We're not moving. I love it here."
Pansy looked around the place. It was hardly well kept, and all it did for her was remind her of the fact that she didn't really fit into Harry's life. The memories he held at Grimmauld place weren't of her, they were of the Order and Sirius, and while she felt that was nice for him, she didn't enjoy living somewhere she didn't feel at home.
"I want us to start a new life together," she said softly, sitting down next to him. "We can't start a family if you're constantly reminded of war and death. I don't want to bring my children up in this environment."
Harry sighed. "There's really nothing wrong with it, Pansy. Besides, what would you have me do with this place?"
"Perhaps you could turn it into a museum? I'm sure lots of people would love to see where the great Harry Potter and the Order learnt to destroy the Dark Lord," she smiled at him.
"A museum? What? Pansy, are you insane?" Harry looked quite outraged now, and Pansy worried she'd hit a raw nerve. "It's not just about war and death, anyway. There was a lot of love here during those times."
Pansy raised her eyebrows; she was unconvinced.
"There was. I had a fantastic Christmas --"
Pansy stamped her foot as she interrupted him. "I don't bloody care! This place makes me miserable."
"I'll think about it," Harry said sharply. "I love you Pansy, lots, but we'll see."
TITLE: Pointless Frets
WORD COUNT: 300
“What’s the big deal? Our son is perfect in my opinion.”
“Harry,” She gave her husband a warning look, “Tobias is attending Hogwarts next year. I can’t have him going there completely oblivious about the Wizarding World.”
“He plays Quidditch at The Burrow every weekend, Pansy. He also knows to cast simple spells. Tobias is not completely oblivious of the Wizarding World.”
“Besides the whole flying business and simple spells, Tobias doesn’t know anything else! He doesn’t know the names of different Potions. There’s also Charms to worry about! What happens if he gets bullied for being oblivious? What if he can’t use his magic efficiently? I knew living a Muggle life in London was a bad idea. Turn off the goddamn TV and look at me, will you?”
Harry grabbed the remote sitting on the armchair of their love couch and switched the television off.
“Maybe I should get him to read Hogwarts, A History.” The other woman muttered.
Glowing emerald eyes sparkled in amusement.
“I think you’ve been around Hermione too much.” Harry mused, “She’s definitely not a good influence on you.”
“I’m not.” Pansy retorted in defense. “Who would want to be like her?”
Harry laughed and took his wife’s hand, “Darling, I didn’t even know it the Wizarding World existed until I got my Hogwarts’ acceptance letter. I also didn’t know how to cast any spells, but look how I turned out to be. You are worrying too much.”
Pansy frowned, “That’s because you’re the Boy Who Lived. Tobias is a different story; how can I not worry?”
“Pansy, I’m perfectly happy with everything about our son. Tobias may not the brightest boy among his peers…”
The frown on Pansy’s face deepened.
“… but at least he’s inherited his father’s charisma and flying abilities.”
TITLE: My Husband
WORD COUNT: 300, according to MS Word
“Harry and I don’t want to have children yet, Mother!” Pansy exclaimed exasperatedly. Frustrated, she ran a hand through her hair.
“Don’t do that, Pansy. Haven’t I taught you better?” her mother reprimanded. “I’m just saying that you should…” her mother trailed off, clicking her tongue in disapproval.
Later that night, as they were about to drift off to sleep, Pansy spoke up. “Harry, what do you think of having a baby?”
There was a pause before Harry spoke up. “Has your mother been pressurising you again, Pans?”
She kept silent.
Harry sighed before continuing. “Look, Pans, I know you’re not like the pure-blood wives. You would be miserable if you had to stay at home to look after the baby. The important question is: do you want to have a baby?”
“What about you? I’ve seen you with Rose and all the other Weasley children. Even though they’re not yours, you still love them the same.”
“I admit, at times, I do want a baby, but I want you to be ready first. Everything will come in its own time. We still have so much more time. Why rush it? So, I’ll repeat again: do you want to have a baby?”
Pansy turned to look up the man she had been married to for three years, nine months, and twenty-seven days. She surveyed his features, taking in the messy black hair, the sharp cheekbones, and the pale, thin lips she knew so well. The bright green eyes were hidden beneath closed eyelids, but she could imagine them all the same.
How had she been blessed with such an amazing man? And he was all hers.
She buried her face into his chest, shaking her head, just wanting to keep what the two of them had right at this moment.
TITLE: Letting Go
WORD COUNT: 300
WARNING(S): character death
They both realized that even though Pansy wasn’t fully there somehow she was still with there with him. At first the new turn their life had taken was difficult and awkward to handle.
At first Harry was sure he was being delusional, his mind playing cruel tricks on him. But Pansy helped him to the realization that she was there, by some miracle they were given a second chance together.
But after awhile the full weight of what kind of life Harry was going to have now was affecting Pansy and her confidence in her decision to stay.
To him Pansy was there just as she had always been. He could hear her voice no matter how loud or low she spoke, the smell of her perfume still lingered on her the same and her skin felt just as soft as before when she was taken away from him. To everyone else Pansy Parkinson was still dead and gone.
Harry was fine with his new routine of going to work and coming back home to Pansy. She had lost the desire to go out like they used to do so many times because there was no point when Harry was the only person that could see her. Pansy knew that it was unfair to make Harry have this type of life with her. What kind of future could he have with a ghost for a girlfriend? Harry couldn’t convince her that he was perfectly fine living this way forever. He might have convinced himself that this was nothing wrong but Pansy knew better.
No she lived him to accept that she had to let go, to let go of Harry and the life they had planned together and accept the life that was waiting for her on the other side.
TITLE: Great Expectations
WORD COUNT: 300
WARNING(S): Alluding to intercourse.
She’s never sated. Not really. The more of himself that he gives her, the more of him she wants. She keeps his heart in a pocket by her hip, and his soul in a locket around her neck. Every moment of every day, she’s there, occupying his mind. She’s all he can ever think about, to the point of distraction. He finds himself rushing home to the headiness of her crushing kisses and the security of her willowy arms.
He gives her one, two, three, and still she pulls him against her; lush, damp skin sliding against skin. He gives her more until he’s reduced to nothing more than heavy weight upon a mattress. Boneless and euphoric.
Then she wants to know the measure of his goals, the expanse of his wildest dreams. The density of his hopes. She questions where her place is in his world, tells him where he stands in hers. She begs the answer of his life thus far, and challenges his mettle until his hoarse voice, and the chirping of the early bird lulls her into an easy slumber in the last moments of the night.
Pansy Parkinson is never fulfilled with the mundanity of normality, nor will she settle for just enough to please. From Harry Potter she anticipates more than the moon and stars or the world on a string that dangles from her fingers and he is contented with spending every moment of his life striving to exceed her expectations. Sometimes it is exhausting and he is prone to grouse, but there is bliss in the knowledge that somebody out there cares enough to see his potential, especially when he cannot. He knows that part of creating love is being a better person simply because she is at his side. Hands entwined.
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Contentment vs. Dissatisfaction
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