not your typical annihilatrix (furiosity) wrote,
not your typical annihilatrix

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Queerditch drabbles

1. A lovely lady named Laura has begun to translate A Gryffindor and a Slytherin into Italian. Am *incredibly* flattered that someone would undertake such a task. Am also terribly embarrassed because now that I've put some distance between myself and that fic, I feel it's really quite mediocre, but I bet you could have surmised that from the fact that I've been MSTing it. >.>

2. I win!. goneril made this for me. ♥ ♥ ♥

3. I am so. Behind. Rar. But! queerditch_pub drabbles. One from the early session and 4 from the late.

Draco/Michael Jackson: Neverland; PG-13. 340 words.

Draco turned his head from side to side, trying to figure out what had gone wrong with his Apparition. His father had warned him not to attempt Apparating until he was of age, but really, how difficult could it be? And yet, right now Draco wished he hadn't tried Apparating. He was ten years old and he had no idea where he was, and attempting to Apparate back to Malfoy Manor would probably land him in Timbuktu.

He was standing underneath a large sign portraying an abnormally large boy in a funny hat leaning down to look at a half-naked baby with a trumpet in its mouth. How distasteful. Especially considering that the baby was sticking its arse out in a very inappropriate fashion. Welcome to Neverland Valley.

"You've never been here before, have you?" asked a soft voice behind him. Draco turned around and saw the ugliest-looking Muggle he'd ever laid eyes on, not that he'd seen many Muggles in his day. He had pale skin, but not pretty like Draco's or his mum's: it was almost like he was dead. His long black hair framed his face in loose curls, but it looked nothing like that nice Mr Snape, who would be Draco's Potions professor next year at Hogwarts. If Draco would ever get back to his own world, that was.

Draco shook his head. "I have not," he said, gripping his (illegally purchased) wand tightly in his pocket. Father had warned him about talking to strange Muggles, too, and Draco was beginning to get the idea that perhaps sometimes he should listen to his father.

"Well then, maybe you should come with me. I have a nice bed up in the house--"

Draco wasn't sure how exactly he ended up back at Malfoy Manor, he just remembered hexing the Muggle's nose off his face and wishing desperately to be back home. He may have even clicked his heels, but he wasn't sure. And that's why Draco has always hated Muggles. They were disgusting, perverted creatures. Bed. Honestly.

Lucius/Regulus: Paris; PG. 177 words.

Regulus is nothing like his brother. The thought comes to him suddenly, when he's trying to focus on the back of Lucius's head as they walk through the Catacombs. It's not at all like the dungeon at Hogwarts, but Regulus remembers the dungeon nonetheless, following Snape along much like he is following Lucius now.

Regulus is not like his brother because Sirius would never do this, would never walk through dark corridors following someone else. If anything, Sirius would lead, not follow. Lucius stops in front of a low archway that leads to an even darker tunnel and glances at Regulus. "Are you afraid?"

Regulus shakes his head, stepping closer. At that moment, it feels like it's the very darkness behind him that spurs him forward. Lucius pulls him gently forward and places a kiss near his temple. His lips burn Regulus, they always do, but Regulus doesn't mind. "It won't hurt a bit," promises Lucius and ducks under the archway.

Regulus rubs his left forearm in anticipation and follows again. He is nothing like his brother.

Remus & Harry: Godric's Hollow; G. 156 words.

Harry stared up at the ruined house and tried desperately to remember being there, but nothing came to mind, not even his mother's screaming. He took several steps closer to what must have been a door once, dead leaves crunching under his feet. He wrinkled his nose at the acrid smell that wafted from inside. Squinting, he could see vague, dark outlines silhouetted against a grimy window: a sofa, maybe, and some chairs. There was a churning sensation in his gut; this could have been the house he grew up in.

He turned away and noticed that Lupin was standing with his back to the house, his shoulders hunched. Harry walked over to him. "You've never been back here since, have you?" he asked after a moment.

Lupin shook his head. He wasn't looking at Harry.

Harry turned back and surveyed the house once more. "Well, I hope you will come back again. After we rebuild."

Harry/Draco: Godric's Hollow; PG. 197 words.

Harry was just about to Disapparate when he saw a dark shape move out of the dense thicket to his left. Acting on pure instinct, he drew his wand and cast Petrificus Totalus. Whoever it was fell over and hit the ground. Harry approached the still figure slowly, muttered, "Lumos" under his breath and rolled his eyes when he saw Malfoy staring up at him.

"Really, Malfoy, you're not even trying anymore, are you? Ennervate."

Malfoy sat up, scowling. "I thought you'd be gone."

"I told you to stop following me around, Malfoy. Don't you have better things to do with your time?"

Malfoy's cold eyes narrowed. "I don't. No thanks to you."

Harry held out his arm to help him get up, but Malfoy ignored it, struggling to his feet. He brushed off the back of his robes and gave Harry a look full of loathing. Harry rolled his eyes again. "You won't catch me doing anything, Malfoy. Nor will you find anything in the rubbish bins. I'm an upstanding member of wizarding society."

But Malfoy grabbed Harry's arse and pulled him close, rather unexpectedly, and Harry quickly realised that 'upstanding' had more than one meaning.

Dumbledore/Stan Shunpike: near a goat; PG. 109 words.

"Here, Albus," said Stan helpfully, passing him the bottle of lotion. "This ought to help."

Albus accepted the lotion. "This will make things much easier, Stan. I am glad you are being so accomodating," he said with a benign smile.

Stan shifted and squirmed as Albus's expert hands applied lotion on the female goat's udder. He could almost imagine those hands sliding over Stan, in places... but it was best not to think of one's former headmaster that way.

"Meh," said the goat, clearly not as impressed with Albus's milking technique as Stan was.

Stan sighed and looked away. The goat didn't know how good she had it, really.

4. Big Bang 2. homg.
Tags: fic:character:hp:harry, fic:fandom:hp, fic:length:drabble, fic:pairing:draco/michael jackson, fic:pairing:dumbledore/stan shunpike, fic:pairing:harry/draco, fic:pairing:lucius/regulus, fic:post-hbp
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