Fan Fiction (Shorts)

Magic Never Again

It was a perfect day to go outside. Or so Ariana thought, as she ran down a meadow. The sun felt warm on her skin, and the clear sky was in a perfect shade of pastel blue that Ariana wished she could use it as paint.

As she sat down under a tree, Ariana couldn’t wait to do her little tricks. Tricks her brothers called magic. Something her parents said to be a gift, and boy, she loved this gift!

Raising her small palm, she closed her eyes and thought of a butterfly. And as expected, what came fluttering out of her hand was a small yellow butterfly. Her blue eyes sparkled as the butterfly took off from her palm and into the sky.

“More!” Ariana said to herself with a giggle as she closed both her hands this time. Making two more butterflies.

Her excitement made her continue. More butterflies she made, and every time they appeared on her palm, her blue eyes would light up.

Being six, bliss was found in everything she saw. Even in the butterflies she made. But her bliss was short lived when she saw a few boys staring at her from across the meadow.

Ariana watched them as they watched her. They whispered to one another and though she was rather curious on what they were up to, she decided to ignore them and return to making more butterflies.

One after another, butterflies escaped her palms. She was getting better at it and she was ecstatic.

Giggling as butterflies filled the tree above her head, she had not notice the boys walking towards her. And when she finally did, they were only a few feet away.

“What are you doing?” one of the boys asked skeptically.

“Making butterflies!” Ariana smiled from ear to ear.

“It’s a trick, isn’t it?” another boy asked.

“It’s magic!” Ariana innocently answered.

“There’s no such thing as magic you freak!” the same boy shouted.

Ariana who was shock by the accusation, quickly got on her feet.

“Yea! You must be a freak if you can do magic!” the other boy added.

“Freak! You’re a freak!” They began taunting her.

Ariana, who was confuse and hurt, started to sob. Was she really a freak? Ariana thought as she watch the butterflies in the tree slowly fluttering away.

“I’m special! I’m not a freak!” Ariana shouted at the boys.

“Oh yea? Who said so?”

“My mother and father!” Ariana bravely answered.

And as she did, one of them pushed her to the ground, “Shut up freak!”

“Yea! Shut up!” another boy added as he gave her a kick.

His action triggered the rest to follow after, as one by one they started kicking her. Taunting and calling her a freak as they did.

Ariana, quickly curled up as she took their blows. Tears falling down her cheeks and her constant plea for them to stop did not help. She was scared and confused. She didn’t know why they hated her. All she did was make butterflies. Was it so wrong?

The boys finally stopped after what seemed like a long time of kicking and stomping the young girl.

“Freaks should die!” one of them shouted as they backed away from her and started to leave.

“I hope you die” another spat at her before he followed after his friends.

Ariana, still curled up, didn’t dare to move. And as her tears kept falling, she kept wondering. If she had to die for being special, she didn’t want to be special anymore. She didn’t want to make butterflies or make flowers bloom. She didn’t want to make colorful fishes or heal the baby bird’s broken wings. She didn’t want to do magic. It was a horrid thing.

As day became night, Ariana stayed curled up till her brothers shouted her name. When she looked up and saw Albus and Aberforth hovering over her, she only said one thing, “No more.”

Her brothers, who immediately noticed the bruises and wounds on her body hurriedly brought her home. And as her distraught mother patched up her wounds, her father left the house without a word after she told him what had happened.

And though Ariana was a bit confused with her parents reaction, she was clear on one thing. She was never doing magic again. Magic was bad. It was horrid. And she will die if she made another butterfly. With that, Ariana slept and never again would you see her little hands make that day’s delights ever again.

Fan Fiction (Shorts)

Not Even The Cold

It has been 3 days since they took his father. And in those 3 days his mother had never left her bedroom.

Draco had to make sure she ate during meal times and slept when she needed to. He was constantly making sure all her needs were met. And all done without a single complaint.

Draco Malfoy, a mommy’s boy? Partly true. But the reason why he was trying his best to look after his mother was because she was the only family he had left.

Was it so hard for him to have a normal family? Draco constantly thought.

That morning, he sat on his bed staring at himself in the mirror. He looked ordinary. He could easily pass off as a muggle. And as shameful as it is to admit it, it seemed like a very good idea.

Growing tired at staring at his sleep deprived eyes, he decided to check on his mother. As he entered her room, there she sat again, by the window. For the past 3 days, Narcissa Malfoy would sit and stare out the window. She wouldn’t talk if given a choice, nor would she leave.

Draco could feel her pain, her lost, her fears. Her emotions filled the room, and Draco wished he could do something about it.

Upon hearing him enter, Narcissa turned around and forced a smile.

“Mother, have you eaten?” Draco asked, worried he would lose her too.

“Would you make me a sandwich?” Narcissa asked softly.

Draco nodded and did as he was told. He headed to the kitchen and attempted at making a sandwich, which was the least he could do for his mother.

Bread. Ham. Cheese. Lettuce. What else? Draco thought to himself as he placed one on top of the other. When he finally took a step back from the sandwich, he felt disappointed. If he wouldn’t eat that thing himself, how could his mother?

Draco swept the kitchen table clean, sending the sandwich and everything else on it onto the floor.

“Elkin, clean this up!” Draco shouted at a house elf who hurried to the task given. “And make mother a sandwich,” Draco ordered.

Of all the concocted emotions that was driving him nuts, the very one that affected him that day was disappointment. Couldn’t he do anything himself? Is making a sandwich so hard? Draco felt like a disappointment.

And now that the Dark Lord had chosen him for a task, he was so afraid he would be a disappointment. Not to the Dark Lord, but to his family. Their lives were at stake. If he should fail, he might as well disown himself.

Deep in his own thoughts, Draco noticed the house elf slowly walking up to him. And as he took the plate of sandwich from it, he gave the house elf a kick, “Back to work.”

Still emotionally distraught, Draco headed to his mother’s room and placed the plate on her lap.

“Thank you dear,” Narcissa smiled as she kissed Draco on his hand.

“Do you need anything else?” Draco asked immediately.

Narcissa shook her head and Draco left her to her sandwich. He didn’t have anywhere else to go but his room, so he retreated under the messy comforter on his bed.

Though under his comforter he felt protected from the chill in his room, deep inside, ice was building. Ice was building on everything he hold dear to him, his hopes, his dreams, his future. All growing cold. All fading away with every step he took.

To think that he could actually have a normal family made Draco hate his father. How could his father drag them all into this mess? He never wanted it, and he was sure neither did his mother. Now that his father was in Azkaban, he had to fix it all.

Alone in his room, Draco held on to his tears no longer. The pain, the hurt, the fear and everything that made his mother upset, everything that tore his family apart, was finally surfacing.

He was 16. Merely 16. He didn’t deserve to go through all these.

When Draco heard his door open, he quickly wiped the tears off his cheek and sat up. He was ready to yell at the house elf for intruding his privacy. But at the door was not a house elf… it was his mother.

“How are you feeling?” Narcissa asked as she walked towards him and sat on his bed.

“Fine,” Draco answered, surprised that his mother left her room.

“You don’t look fine,” Narcissa said as she wiped a tear off his cheek.

“Mother…” Draco trailed off. He didn’t know what to say.

“I know. I know you are angry and upset. I know you’re scared,” Narcissa said as she held on to her son’s hand.

“I, I don’t think I can do it,” Draco said, holding back his tears.

“You don’t have to, if you can’t.” Narcissa never wanted this for her son, and she could feel his fear.

“But if I dont-” Draco choked on his words.

“Let me take care of this. Don’t worry about it.” Narcissa closed in and gave her son a hug.

And as though the flood gates broke open, Draco broke down. Tears fell and he couldn’t stop, even if he forced himself to.

“Hush now, everything is going to be alright.” Narcissa held on to her son tighter. He had been taking care of her for the past few days, and it was her turn now. She was his mother, and she was going to protect him.

This time, Draco felt protected. Knowing his mother will have his back, he felt secured. They may not have his father, but they had each other. And nothing was going to break them apart. Not the fear, not the anger, not the pain, not even the cold.

Fan Fiction (Shorts)

She Left Didn’t She

5th May, 1990

It was a beautiful day. The sun was up, the sky was clear, and the yellow flowers Luna had collected was perfect for the vase on her bedside table. She had just turned nine 3 days ago and she felt as though she was “big” enough to conquer the world.

She skipped in her floral blue dress in their family’s garden and shooed the gnomes backed into their holes in the ground. She didn’t really like the gnomes, nor did her father, but no matter what she did, they always came back.

It was tea time and Luna was done playing outside. She hurried up the old wooden steps and into the crooked house she called home.

But when she thought the day was too pleasant for tears, her father proved her wrong. Sitting by an old armchair was Xenophilius Lovegood, the man Luna occasionally called the Happy Nargle. She found it rather odd, and wondered why he was sobbing uncontrollably.

“Father? What’s the matter?” Luna asked as she squeezed next to him on the armchair.

Xenophilius shook his head in reply. He didnt know how to tell his daughter what had just happened.

“Did the gnomes make you upset? I can yell at them if you like,” Luna smiled innocently.

“Luna-” Xenophilius choked on his words. The girl was nine. She was too young for this.

“Are you upset that i came home a wee bit late? I promise to be on time next time.” Luna felt bad. What she said didn’t help and she didn’t like seeing her father cry.

“I’ll make you some tea, just as you like it,”Luna said and walked to the kitchen before her father could stop her.

As she entered, she stopped dead in her tracks. The kitchen was in a mess. The windows hung broken and pieces of the kitchen cabinet laid on the floor. On the kitchen table was her mother’s cauldron, but it seemed to her that her mother needed a new one because this one had a big crack.

Luna was careful not to step on the wooden shards as she headed to the stove. She watched the floor as she maneuvered but when she finally looked up, the answer to her question of a messy kitchen was answered.

Lying on the floor was her mother. Eyes shut and body limp, Luna wasn’t sure what to make of it. She slowly knelt down beside her mother and touched her hand. It felt cold.

As Luna looked up, she saw her father standing at the doorway. He seemed to be looking for words to say but none came out of his mouth.

“She left didn’t she?” Luna asked softly.

Xenophilius was confuse. He didn’t know what his daughter was talking about.

“She left didn’t she?” Luna asked as she stood up.

“Luna, your mother-“

“It’s ok father. I won’t leave so soon.” Luna walked over and gave her father a hug.

She knew what was going on. Her mother had left them. But she was determined not to.

After all, she was nine. “Big” enough to be strong for her deeply upset Happy Nargle.

Fan Fiction (Shorts)

Haymitch’s Stunt

The 50th Hunger games marked the beginning of the end of his life.

Haymitch Abernathy, who was recently thrown into an arena where he had to fight for his life, celebrated his 16 birthday on top of a tree. Without candles to blow out this year, Haymitch thought of home. He briefly thought of his mother, his younger brother and his girlfriend, all watching him on television, praying that he will survive.

That night, the sky was empty and bare. There were no stars, and not even a moon. But at the sound of the canon, Maysilee Donner, his fellow District 12 tribute’s face was projected into the sky. She was dead now.

Earlier that day, they decided to break their alliance because they could not bring themselves to kill each other, but now Haymitch didn’t have to worry about that anymore.

Haymitch hugged himself as the night grew colder. He hoped that they wouldn’t throw in a blizzard as he wanted to get some sleep. There were only a few of them left so it wont be long till he would have to kill another, and without sleep, he’ll just be walking into death itself.

Haymitch shut his eyes and before his body could actually rest, he was forced to open them again as that early morning was as bright as noon and as hot as summer. Haymitch grunted as he jumped down the tree and landed into a mud pile.

The soil felt wet and slippery, as though it had just rained. But Haymitch knew better. What were the game masters up to now?

Haymitch quickly but carefully made his way through the jungle, but the mud did its job at slowing him down. He wished this was all they would do to him today, but he was wrong. The sky started turning dark and dark clouds started to form. Before he could make a sarcastic remark about the weather, it started raining cats and dogs.

The rain fell so heavily that Haymitch decided to climb up the nearest tree. It was then that the canon blasted again. The face of a young girl, barely above the age of 12, was projected into the sky. Death at such a young age; she barely lived her life, and Haymitch felt sorry for her.

But in the midst of it all, it suddenly dawned on him that the only tributes left was the red head girl from district 7 and him. It was time to end the game and the time was now when an arrow flew across him, narrowly missing his head.

Haymitch quickly jumped off the tree. And as he landed on the muddy grown, he began to run. He slipped and fell a couple of times, but he managed to pick himself up and kept going. Hot on his heels, was the red head girl, who was constantly shooting arrows at him.

Haymitch thought he could get away, but one wrong turn led him straight to a cliff with no where else to run. He had a crazy idea of jumping but when he looked down and saw only a thick mist, he decided not to.

The read head girl finally came out of the forest. She now held an axe in her hand as she slowly walked towards him. When Haymitch backed away from her, he slipped. Managing to catch a hold of a tree branch, Haymitch stumbled to regain footing. But as he did so, the pebbles he kicked down the cliff made zapping sounds, one of which came flying back up and knocking him in the head.

“What is down there?” Haymitch muttered to himself.

“Any last words?” the red head girl asked, drawing his attention back to her.

Haymitch gulped as she tightened her grip on the axe. And before he could blink, she threw it directly at him. Haymitch quickly dropped to his knees as the axe flew pass his head and down the cliff. And with a deafening zap, the axe came flying back, straight towards the red head girl.

Confused, she was too slow to dodge the axe as it flew right at her head and stucked itself in her skull. With her eyes wide open, blood gushed like a broken dam, making streams of blood all over her face. Just as she hit the grown, a canon was fired and the game was over.

“It’s over,”Haymitch said, trying to convince himself. But there was this sinking feeling that it never would be. Because the Hunger Games will never be over. And every year, only one will survive.

This year, he was just that lucky one.

Fan Fiction (Shorts)

Last Letter to Lily

He stood in the owlery staring at the letter in his hand. This was his final attempt. If this didn’t work, then he would stop trying, not because he had given up, but because he was willing to pay for his mistakes. Mistakes he wish he could fix with a flick of a wand. But unfortunately, it wasn’t as easy as that.

When he finally stopped staring at the letter, he headed to the nearest owl to have it attached. The owl hooted softly as he finally let go. It swished up and out of the owlery and as he watched it disappear into the evening sky, he hoped it would return to him with a reply.

That night, the same owl came knocking on a window, eyes darting across the Gryffindor common room, looking for the person it was sent to. But instead of the girl with red hair and green eyes, a boy with black hair and hazel eyes opened the window and retrieved the letter.

Addressed to Lily Evans, the boy mischievously tore it open and read.

Dear Lily,

I’m sorry. I’m sorry because for calling you a mudblood. I never meant it. I swear I never meant it.

I know you wouldn’t talk to me, so I thought that maybe, if I wrote you a letter, you would know that I am truly sorry. And I wish I could take my words back.

I know it was wrong, but it was a slip of the tongue. Potter keeps kept picking on me and I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to defend myself, and I’m really sorry I hurt you along the way.

Honestly Lily, I know I shouldn’t point fingers, but this is happening because of Potter. Both you and I know he is an arrogant toerag. And if he would just leave me alone, none of this these these would be happening.

Please Lily, forgive me. I am sorry once again for saying those mean words. And I know now that death eaters are bad, and I’m not going to be one. I promise.

I miss the time we had together. I miss brewing Felix Felicis with you, and staying up late trying to study for exams. I miss sitting in your front yard and counting the stars at night. Last Christmas, I barely saw you. Even though I walked past your house a million times!

Lily, you have to know this is killing me. Please forgive me. Ask of me anything, and I’ll do it for you, if you could just accept my apology. We’re best friends, and you promised we will be best friends no matter what happens.

I’ll wait for your reply, hoping that thinks things can go back to the way it used to be.

Sincerely sorry, your Half-blood Prince.

The boy chuckled at the end of it. “He blames me?” he asked in disbelief as he walked over to the fireplace.

“Well, since it’s my fault, I shall own up to it then.” The boy crumpled the letter with its envelope and threw it into the flames.

“What are you doing?” a demanding voice asked from behind him as the flames made a soft ‘poof’.

“None of your business Evans,” he replied with a smirk.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot I was speaking to an arrogant toerag,” Lily said as she left him to his bloody business which she hoped he would get in trouble for.

(*Update_2015: Wow, I just realised this piece has the most likes and comments! Thank you to all for reading this. I appreciate all the feedback and I’m glad so many enjoyed it 🙂 )