in which Leslie posts a few drabbles...with more to come
Title: Tears of Laughter
A/N: For Last Author Standing, prompt "A Single Tear."
"...Mrs Weasley was telling Hermione and Ginny about a love potion she'd made as a young girl. All three of them were rather giggly." (Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, chapter 5)
On September 1, the day Hermione would begin her third year and Ginny her second, Molly Weasley walked into the breakfast room to find Hermione earnestly telling Ginny what she could expect in all of her classes.
"Potions shouldn't be too bad. There's Swelling Solution and Hair-raising potion, but I wouldn't worry about them if you did all right last year."
Ginny shrugged. "I did okay, I guess. About as well as anything else."
Molly sighed as she helped herself to some bacon. Ginny had struggled in most of her classes when possessed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It was a pity she hadn't had the opportunity to realize what her intellectual interests really were. For young Molly Prewett, that interest had mostly been Potions.
"You know, when I was your age," she began, "I was fascinated by Potions. I even brewed some on my own time with my friends."
"Really, Mum?" Ginny asked, curious. "What did you make?"
Molly blushed, surprising both Hermione and Ginny. "Oh, a few beauty products and healing pastes . . . and a love potion."
Hermione choked on her orange juice. "When you were Ginny's age? Love potions were certainly against the rules even in your time!"
"They were," the older woman admitted, "but I really liked the boy."
"Was it Dad?"
"No." Molly took a bite of her breakfast, trying to regain her composure. "It was Frank Wood."
"Wood? So, Oliver Wood's father," Hermione deduced.
"Yes, that's him. He was very handsome, and I was only twelve!"
"Did the potion work?" Ginny wanted to know.
Molly started to laugh. "Oh, goodness. Not really. A bunch of silly girls trying to read an old potions book are bound to mix some things up. Do you want to know the worst part?"
The girls nodded earnestly.
"It called for a single tear from the brewer, to cause melancholy and sympathy in the drinker. The problem was, none of my friends could get me to cry! We were having too much fun. Finally we realized that I was laughing so hard my eyes were watering, so we siphoned off a tear and put it in the potion instead."
"What happened to Mr. Wood?" Hermione asked breathlessly.
"Well, he didn't start pining for me, unfortunately. Instead, everything I did was extremely funny to him. That first morning after I'd spiked his breakfast tea, I said hello to him and he nearly fell over laughing. When I answered questions in class or dropped my quill, it set him off again." She laughed at the memory, Ginny and Hermione joining her. "In a way I got what I wanted: his attention. But it wasn't the attention I'd been after!"
"What did you do?"
"I couldn't do anything! I knew I'd messed up the potion, though I wasn't sure how, so I didn't dare make an antidote. I just had to wait for it to wear off. It only took a couple of days, thank heaven."
"Oh, no!" Ginny giggled. "What did Dad think about all of this?"
"Well, we were just friends then. Arthur actually told Frank he was either simple-minded or bewitched because as charming as I was I didn't merit uproarious laughter when I blinked. I thought that was really sweet of him, because by that time Frank was getting on my nerves. Didn't put the poor boy off at all, but I appreciated it anyway."
"Of course, dear," Arthur said from the other side of the table, not looking up from the Daily Prophet. "And you continue to be charming, though not especially hilarious when you blink."
Molly smiled fondly at her husband, then returned to her tale. "At any rate, I learned that there are definitely better ways to get a fellow's attention than a love potion, especially one I bungled up!" They all giggled again as the boys came downstairs for breakfast. Ginny and Hermione exchanged a glance when Ron and Harry passed, then resumed giggling. If they ever wanted to get a boy's attention, at least they knew how not to do it.
Title: Effort to Avoid Effort
A/N: Written for a TTB challenge, prompts sloth and Herbology. It occurs during 3rd year.
"How's your arm today, Draco?"
"It still hurts a lot, Pansy. Don't touch it." Draco pulled away from Pansy's sympathetic stroke and looked around the greenhouse for Professor Sprout. "Professor," he said, approaching her with his arm held stiffly. "I can't do ... what are we doing today?"
"We're fertilizing puffapods," she replied briskly. "You might have some difficulty, though it is indeed possible to do it with one hand. Perhaps see if one of your classmates is willing to help you."
"You won't ... assign anyone?" Draco felt a tinge of worry.
"No, of course not. You should be fully capable of finishing your own work some way or another."
"Right." He wandered back over to Crabbe and Goyle. There had to be some way to get out of this, or it was hardly worth having his arm bandaged so heavily. "Hey, Crabbe," he started, then reconsidered. Herbology was not one of Crabbe's strong points. Neither was it Goyle's. Maybe one of the Ravenclaws would be willing to help, if he phrased it right. All he had to do was remember one of their names....
"Leslie?"
"Lisa." The Ravenclaw girl glared at him.
"Lisa. Right." Draco tried to put on a charming smile. "You're so smart. I bet you could finish your puffapod and mine during class today!"
"I don't think so." And she focused on her work, completely ignoring his presence.
"How about you...er...Boot?"
"No thanks."
Draco huffed in frustration. "Zabini?"
"Get stuffed, Malfoy."
Professor Sprout was looking his way; Draco scurried over to his assigned puffapod, glowering. It seemed there was no other way to get around this. He took a deep breath, pasted on a smile, and turned to the person next to him.
"Pansy, I can't seem to get this right. The darned bandage keeps getting in the way. Could you help me?"
"Oh, of course!" she simpered. "But I need to finish my own puffapod first." Her eyes lit up. "I have an idea! You can use one hand to put the fertilizer in the pot with me! Three hands will make the work go so much faster, and we'll definitely have time for both!"
"But -- " Draco tried, but Pansy gave him a look that said he'd not be getting out of this. So he stood at Pansy's pot, ignoring the caressing nudges she kept finding excuses to give him, and grabbed handfuls of fertilizer as slowly as possible.
"At this rate, we might not finish yours in time," Pansy said. "Here, we need some over on this side." She pointed to a spot on the other side of the pot, but didn't move. Draco gritted his teeth and reached across her to pat fertilizer down, averting his gaze from her simpering smile. Next time, he'd just buckle down and do it himself, fake bandages or not. Getting out of work wasn't worth this.
Title: Susan Bones and the Galleon that Won't Go Away
A/N: Written for the Dumbledore's Army week of my Missing Moments class.
Susan turned the coin over in her fingers. She really should put it away, but for some reason she couldn't relinquish it.
It was only luck that she'd brought the coin to Hogwarts in the first place; it had been in a drawer among several old quills. She'd brought it to remind her of Harry Potter, a kind of talisman. When Neville approached her in Herbology, whispering of a reinstatement of the DA if she'd like to come, wondering if by any chance she'd brought her coin, she'd pleasantly surprised him by answering in the affirmative on both counts.
But now...now she couldn't risk it any longer. With her mum in hiding, Susan was all her dad had left. She didn't think he could bear it if she were hurt. If she ended up anything like Michael Corner....
"Susan?" Ernie had approached and was standing by her chair in the Common Room, looking expectant. "Are you coming to the meeting?"
She looked up at him, then back down at her hands. "No, I'm not coming. I can't do this anymore. Here, take this." She tried to hand the coin to him. "Neville can give it to someone who will use it."
"I'm not taking your coin. You keep it." He shook his head when Susan tried again. "No, I mean it. Neville will want you to keep this."
He left without further argument, and Susan returned to gazing at the coin as it glittered in the firelight. "We'll see what Neville wants," she murmured to herself, mustering the courage for what she would do the next day.
In Herbology the next morning, Susan maneuvered herself to work next to Neville. Was it her imagination, or had he maneuvered himself to be near her?
"I'm sorry" collided with "I understand" and they both halted, waiting for the other to finish.
"I can't take the risk anymore," Susan said finally, cutting to the chase. "I need to turn in my coin. Sorry," she repeated.
"No, I'm sorry." Neville was solemn but his fingers didn't stumble as they gently unfurled the leaves of the Crimean Tangleweed to spread fertilizer on them. "I can't expect you to take the risks either. We're not doing stunts like that any longer. I do hope you reconsider, Susan. You bring a special spirit to our meetings, especially with the younger children. I'll be sad to see you go, but I understand why you're making this decision." He looked her in the eye. "Keep the coin. You deserve it after all your hard work this year. And thanks." He smiled warmly at her.
Susan managed a weak smile back, then focused on her own Tangleweed, mind whirling. She supposed she'd have to keep the coin. And if she happened to see a note for the next meeting, and happened to come to it...well. It wasn't her fault she still had her coin around.
Title: Barrier
A/N: For the TTB challenge "Back to School" -- this was the winning entry.
"There's always exciting stuff going on at Hogwarts. There was that basilisk, and Sirius Black! Just you wait, Dennis, you'll have the time of your life there with me!"
Dennis Creevey stands at the barrier between platforms 9 and 10 at Kings Cross Station, his father by his side.
"I don't have to go back," Dennis says suddenly, turning to his dad. "We're a good team, right? I could stay and be a milkman with you."
Dad smiles sadly and kneels down so he can look Dennis in the eye. "We are a good team. But, son, you need to finish your school. You've been given this amazing gift and shouldn't waste it."
"It's a dangerous gift," Dennis whispers. "It killed Colin."
Dad bites his lip. "Magic didn't kill Colin, an evil man killed Colin, and he knew what he was getting into when he left that night."
"This is it, Dennis! The DA coin lit up! I'm going to go see Harry, and fight! We won't have to hide anymore after this night. Stay with Dad; I'm going to Hogsmeade."
The time inches toward eleven. Dennis and his father are jostled by other students going through the barrier. Many pay him no mind -- he looks enough like a first-year that they can attribute his hesitancy to nervousness about a new school -- but a few look at him sidelong, recognizing him as a Creevey brother. They glance away quickly before he can catch their eyes.
Dennis closes his eyes and acknowledges what's really bothering him. "How can I go to Hogwarts when he's not there with me, and when everything will remind me of him? How can I leave you alone?" He feels his face crumple and fights to hold the crying in.
Dad envelops him in a hug, holding him so tight a few tears escape after all. "Oh, my good little boy. I don't know. But think about this: what would Colin want us to do?"
"He'd want me to enjoy being at Hogwarts," Dennis admits. "It will be so hard without him."
Dad releases Dennis, but stays kneeling for a moment, gazing at him. "Dennis, this will sound strange and I'm not sure it will come out right. But I want you to know that Colin will be with you, here." He puts his hand on Dennis' heart. "And he will be with me, too. You can be strong, and brave, like him, and he'll always be there."
Dennis can't help it; he starts crying. "Thanks, Dad. I'll write you!" He grasps his trunk and faces the barrier once more. "I love you," he adds as his father stands up, stepping away to better watch his son disappear.
"I love you too. Have an amazing year."
"Isn't it wonderful how we can do hard things, Dennis? We've learned so much here at Hogwarts. I can't wait to learn more; can you?"
A/N: For Last Author Standing, prompt "A Single Tear."
"...Mrs Weasley was telling Hermione and Ginny about a love potion she'd made as a young girl. All three of them were rather giggly." (Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, chapter 5)
On September 1, the day Hermione would begin her third year and Ginny her second, Molly Weasley walked into the breakfast room to find Hermione earnestly telling Ginny what she could expect in all of her classes.
"Potions shouldn't be too bad. There's Swelling Solution and Hair-raising potion, but I wouldn't worry about them if you did all right last year."
Ginny shrugged. "I did okay, I guess. About as well as anything else."
Molly sighed as she helped herself to some bacon. Ginny had struggled in most of her classes when possessed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It was a pity she hadn't had the opportunity to realize what her intellectual interests really were. For young Molly Prewett, that interest had mostly been Potions.
"You know, when I was your age," she began, "I was fascinated by Potions. I even brewed some on my own time with my friends."
"Really, Mum?" Ginny asked, curious. "What did you make?"
Molly blushed, surprising both Hermione and Ginny. "Oh, a few beauty products and healing pastes . . . and a love potion."
Hermione choked on her orange juice. "When you were Ginny's age? Love potions were certainly against the rules even in your time!"
"They were," the older woman admitted, "but I really liked the boy."
"Was it Dad?"
"No." Molly took a bite of her breakfast, trying to regain her composure. "It was Frank Wood."
"Wood? So, Oliver Wood's father," Hermione deduced.
"Yes, that's him. He was very handsome, and I was only twelve!"
"Did the potion work?" Ginny wanted to know.
Molly started to laugh. "Oh, goodness. Not really. A bunch of silly girls trying to read an old potions book are bound to mix some things up. Do you want to know the worst part?"
The girls nodded earnestly.
"It called for a single tear from the brewer, to cause melancholy and sympathy in the drinker. The problem was, none of my friends could get me to cry! We were having too much fun. Finally we realized that I was laughing so hard my eyes were watering, so we siphoned off a tear and put it in the potion instead."
"What happened to Mr. Wood?" Hermione asked breathlessly.
"Well, he didn't start pining for me, unfortunately. Instead, everything I did was extremely funny to him. That first morning after I'd spiked his breakfast tea, I said hello to him and he nearly fell over laughing. When I answered questions in class or dropped my quill, it set him off again." She laughed at the memory, Ginny and Hermione joining her. "In a way I got what I wanted: his attention. But it wasn't the attention I'd been after!"
"What did you do?"
"I couldn't do anything! I knew I'd messed up the potion, though I wasn't sure how, so I didn't dare make an antidote. I just had to wait for it to wear off. It only took a couple of days, thank heaven."
"Oh, no!" Ginny giggled. "What did Dad think about all of this?"
"Well, we were just friends then. Arthur actually told Frank he was either simple-minded or bewitched because as charming as I was I didn't merit uproarious laughter when I blinked. I thought that was really sweet of him, because by that time Frank was getting on my nerves. Didn't put the poor boy off at all, but I appreciated it anyway."
"Of course, dear," Arthur said from the other side of the table, not looking up from the Daily Prophet. "And you continue to be charming, though not especially hilarious when you blink."
Molly smiled fondly at her husband, then returned to her tale. "At any rate, I learned that there are definitely better ways to get a fellow's attention than a love potion, especially one I bungled up!" They all giggled again as the boys came downstairs for breakfast. Ginny and Hermione exchanged a glance when Ron and Harry passed, then resumed giggling. If they ever wanted to get a boy's attention, at least they knew how not to do it.
Title: Effort to Avoid Effort
A/N: Written for a TTB challenge, prompts sloth and Herbology. It occurs during 3rd year.
"How's your arm today, Draco?"
"It still hurts a lot, Pansy. Don't touch it." Draco pulled away from Pansy's sympathetic stroke and looked around the greenhouse for Professor Sprout. "Professor," he said, approaching her with his arm held stiffly. "I can't do ... what are we doing today?"
"We're fertilizing puffapods," she replied briskly. "You might have some difficulty, though it is indeed possible to do it with one hand. Perhaps see if one of your classmates is willing to help you."
"You won't ... assign anyone?" Draco felt a tinge of worry.
"No, of course not. You should be fully capable of finishing your own work some way or another."
"Right." He wandered back over to Crabbe and Goyle. There had to be some way to get out of this, or it was hardly worth having his arm bandaged so heavily. "Hey, Crabbe," he started, then reconsidered. Herbology was not one of Crabbe's strong points. Neither was it Goyle's. Maybe one of the Ravenclaws would be willing to help, if he phrased it right. All he had to do was remember one of their names....
"Leslie?"
"Lisa." The Ravenclaw girl glared at him.
"Lisa. Right." Draco tried to put on a charming smile. "You're so smart. I bet you could finish your puffapod and mine during class today!"
"I don't think so." And she focused on her work, completely ignoring his presence.
"How about you...er...Boot?"
"No thanks."
Draco huffed in frustration. "Zabini?"
"Get stuffed, Malfoy."
Professor Sprout was looking his way; Draco scurried over to his assigned puffapod, glowering. It seemed there was no other way to get around this. He took a deep breath, pasted on a smile, and turned to the person next to him.
"Pansy, I can't seem to get this right. The darned bandage keeps getting in the way. Could you help me?"
"Oh, of course!" she simpered. "But I need to finish my own puffapod first." Her eyes lit up. "I have an idea! You can use one hand to put the fertilizer in the pot with me! Three hands will make the work go so much faster, and we'll definitely have time for both!"
"But -- " Draco tried, but Pansy gave him a look that said he'd not be getting out of this. So he stood at Pansy's pot, ignoring the caressing nudges she kept finding excuses to give him, and grabbed handfuls of fertilizer as slowly as possible.
"At this rate, we might not finish yours in time," Pansy said. "Here, we need some over on this side." She pointed to a spot on the other side of the pot, but didn't move. Draco gritted his teeth and reached across her to pat fertilizer down, averting his gaze from her simpering smile. Next time, he'd just buckle down and do it himself, fake bandages or not. Getting out of work wasn't worth this.
Title: Susan Bones and the Galleon that Won't Go Away
A/N: Written for the Dumbledore's Army week of my Missing Moments class.
Susan turned the coin over in her fingers. She really should put it away, but for some reason she couldn't relinquish it.
It was only luck that she'd brought the coin to Hogwarts in the first place; it had been in a drawer among several old quills. She'd brought it to remind her of Harry Potter, a kind of talisman. When Neville approached her in Herbology, whispering of a reinstatement of the DA if she'd like to come, wondering if by any chance she'd brought her coin, she'd pleasantly surprised him by answering in the affirmative on both counts.
But now...now she couldn't risk it any longer. With her mum in hiding, Susan was all her dad had left. She didn't think he could bear it if she were hurt. If she ended up anything like Michael Corner....
"Susan?" Ernie had approached and was standing by her chair in the Common Room, looking expectant. "Are you coming to the meeting?"
She looked up at him, then back down at her hands. "No, I'm not coming. I can't do this anymore. Here, take this." She tried to hand the coin to him. "Neville can give it to someone who will use it."
"I'm not taking your coin. You keep it." He shook his head when Susan tried again. "No, I mean it. Neville will want you to keep this."
He left without further argument, and Susan returned to gazing at the coin as it glittered in the firelight. "We'll see what Neville wants," she murmured to herself, mustering the courage for what she would do the next day.
In Herbology the next morning, Susan maneuvered herself to work next to Neville. Was it her imagination, or had he maneuvered himself to be near her?
"I'm sorry" collided with "I understand" and they both halted, waiting for the other to finish.
"I can't take the risk anymore," Susan said finally, cutting to the chase. "I need to turn in my coin. Sorry," she repeated.
"No, I'm sorry." Neville was solemn but his fingers didn't stumble as they gently unfurled the leaves of the Crimean Tangleweed to spread fertilizer on them. "I can't expect you to take the risks either. We're not doing stunts like that any longer. I do hope you reconsider, Susan. You bring a special spirit to our meetings, especially with the younger children. I'll be sad to see you go, but I understand why you're making this decision." He looked her in the eye. "Keep the coin. You deserve it after all your hard work this year. And thanks." He smiled warmly at her.
Susan managed a weak smile back, then focused on her own Tangleweed, mind whirling. She supposed she'd have to keep the coin. And if she happened to see a note for the next meeting, and happened to come to it...well. It wasn't her fault she still had her coin around.
Title: Barrier
A/N: For the TTB challenge "Back to School" -- this was the winning entry.
"There's always exciting stuff going on at Hogwarts. There was that basilisk, and Sirius Black! Just you wait, Dennis, you'll have the time of your life there with me!"
Dennis Creevey stands at the barrier between platforms 9 and 10 at Kings Cross Station, his father by his side.
"I don't have to go back," Dennis says suddenly, turning to his dad. "We're a good team, right? I could stay and be a milkman with you."
Dad smiles sadly and kneels down so he can look Dennis in the eye. "We are a good team. But, son, you need to finish your school. You've been given this amazing gift and shouldn't waste it."
"It's a dangerous gift," Dennis whispers. "It killed Colin."
Dad bites his lip. "Magic didn't kill Colin, an evil man killed Colin, and he knew what he was getting into when he left that night."
"This is it, Dennis! The DA coin lit up! I'm going to go see Harry, and fight! We won't have to hide anymore after this night. Stay with Dad; I'm going to Hogsmeade."
The time inches toward eleven. Dennis and his father are jostled by other students going through the barrier. Many pay him no mind -- he looks enough like a first-year that they can attribute his hesitancy to nervousness about a new school -- but a few look at him sidelong, recognizing him as a Creevey brother. They glance away quickly before he can catch their eyes.
Dennis closes his eyes and acknowledges what's really bothering him. "How can I go to Hogwarts when he's not there with me, and when everything will remind me of him? How can I leave you alone?" He feels his face crumple and fights to hold the crying in.
Dad envelops him in a hug, holding him so tight a few tears escape after all. "Oh, my good little boy. I don't know. But think about this: what would Colin want us to do?"
"He'd want me to enjoy being at Hogwarts," Dennis admits. "It will be so hard without him."
Dad releases Dennis, but stays kneeling for a moment, gazing at him. "Dennis, this will sound strange and I'm not sure it will come out right. But I want you to know that Colin will be with you, here." He puts his hand on Dennis' heart. "And he will be with me, too. You can be strong, and brave, like him, and he'll always be there."
Dennis can't help it; he starts crying. "Thanks, Dad. I'll write you!" He grasps his trunk and faces the barrier once more. "I love you," he adds as his father stands up, stepping away to better watch his son disappear.
"I love you too. Have an amazing year."
"Isn't it wonderful how we can do hard things, Dennis? We've learned so much here at Hogwarts. I can't wait to learn more; can you?"