Welcome to The Drabble Thread!


Post your drabbles here! If you are unclear of what a drabble is, you can find the definition here:

Drabble: - This is a small piece of writing. A story about the length of a poem, so therefore not long enough to be a story, so it doesn't really fit anywhere, hence, a Drabble.


Rules

There are only a few:

1.) All Ficlet/Cookie Forum Rules do apply here as well. This includes general Portkey Forum Rules.

2.) Keep your drabbles what they are- drabbles. Please keep your drabbles the size of poems, or no longer than a page.

3.) You do not need to include a title, but please include a rating or any warnings such as character death or violence. Please also keep in mind that according to PK rules, all posts must be PG-13.

Here is a template you may use:

Rating: G
Author Comments: I was just thinking: "In my fic, I'll never..." And when I finished creating a diary entry that would never appear in the fic, I thought, wait, that's not that bad. So I wrote it down.


November 14, 1996
I was walking towards the Hogwarts gate, feeling very moody, since I had wasted half the day on Quidditch practice, instead of going to Hogsmeade like a normal non - Gryffindor - Quidditch - Team - member, y'know... when something fell over me, knocking me over. Well, not exactly. More like someone ran into me. And knocked me over. And was over me for at least two seconds.

My first thought was: Ohhh, nice smell. Rubeus Cologne, I bet...
My second, far more reasonal: Wait... Malfoy! Draco! Slytherin! Ack!
Third: Hmmmm...
And before I could think anything more (two seconds, remember?), Malfoy got to a kneeling position, and glared at me.

He has grey eyes. I hadn't noticed before. I imagine it was because I've never been too near him... I've always thought his eyes were blue. Ruddy common eye colour.

Grey's uncommon, though... and it's nice.

Ahem.

So he glares at me and says, "Truly - you do know that when someone is in a hurry, you should move out of the way and let them pass, don't you? What, Weasley, hasn't anyone taught you manners?" or something as stupidly infuriating as that. Then he stands up and runs off.

So I was in the way? I was the one without manners...?! Excuse me, but who was running around carelessly?!? It wasn't me!

Honestly!

Anyway, never mind, 'cause it doesn't really matter - not an important event, just... unpleasant. And annoying. So all those details were completely unnecessary.

I'll just move on to something more important. Like what I did at Hogsmeade. I bought some sweets. Then headed back to Hogwarts, ate, and now I'm here writing on you.

Now that was something important.

Heehee, that's funny.

Look at Ginny, pretending it didn't mean anything. Methinks Ginny lives in a place named denial.


Crystal

Rating: PG-13
Author Comments: Popped into my head while I was writing the fourth chapter of Sex-Ed...
WARNINGS: none

It had been eight long months. It had been too many days since she had seen her ankles. Ginny was going crazy.

The only upside of being eight months pregnant is that the father is so scared of your mood swings that he'll just about anything.

That's the way it was supposed to be, anyway.

Draco Malfoy was never one that enjoyed to do everything the same as everything else. If Ginny wanted something he would get it, but every favor came with a down side.

"You really could do this yourself, you know?" he told her one day after going out to get her chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.

"But where's the fun in that?" she returned digging into the pint of ice cream.

He didn't answer, Draco just looked at her. It was one of those looks that said a thousand words.

"It's not all giving orders and sitting on my arse, Mister Malfoy," Ginny said playfully.

"Oh it's not?" Draco asked with his eyebrows raised slightly. "Then what is it?"

"It's swollen ankles that you can't see. It's being 40 pounds overweight. You try to pick out an outfit that is flattering," she told him.

"Aw. Poor baby," he mocked.

"You think it's so easy? Why don't you try?" she challenged.

"Sorry, babe, I have the wrong parts," he declined.

Ginny reached over and grabbed her wand. She pointed it at Draco's stomach, smiling as his eye widened.

"Fa Concepto," she muttered.

Draco's stomach began to widen. He looked at Ginny with horror written on his face. In less than a minute, Draco had gained forty pounds and looked like Ginny, eight months pregnant.

"Ginny!" He yelled, looking around for his wife, who had quickly left the scene by apparation.

--

Just an idea.

Title: Map
Rating: PG (Not really sure)
Author Comments: I've got a mild case of writers block, and am currently writing every little thing that enters my mind.
Story Content: He traces the map that is her.
WARNINGS: None.

((Map))

If he stares hard enough, he finds he can see the thin blue vein that runs down the pale flesh of her wrist. It is by no means something worth watching, and he can’t figure out why it seems to mesmerize him. It runs in a crooked trail, branching out, reminding him of maps he’s studied in History of Magic. Maps of her innermost workings.

They are maps he wants to trace with long fingers in lazy patterns. He wants to name every freckle he meets along the roads buried deep within her skin, taking time to visit each one. Studying them as closely as he would his Astronomy charts, as carefully as he would measure his Potion’s ingredients.

He watches, fascinated, as lithe fingers turn page after page of a ridiculously thick tome. His eyes trail up her hand, past her wrist, the bend of her elbow, and curve of her neck. Brown eyes stare back into his cold gray. A minor roadblock, that once he looks away will be gone. A second passes in silence, the library ringing with turned pages and soft whispers. He turns back, continuing his trail.

He wonders if she’ll let him map her.