Well, I guess most people will have seen these on riverchic1998‘s LJ…we were challenging each other and having just finished the last one I figured I may as well post mine too…and the first post for a while (not very good of me, but I had other things to do [lazing around on vacation for a week being one of them]).
Words: pelican, shell, contractor, hail, bread
Situation: Draco is on a shopping trip in London with Neville and runs across Seamus and Ron in a music store debating on who is hotter, Jennifer Lopez or Britney Spears–any ship or no ship
Draco set his sunglasses on top of his elegantly coiffed blond head and walked until he came to the pelican crossing. He had no idea why it was called this but then he had never been able to figure out Muggles, and didn’t really care. He waited for the little man trapped in the box on the traffic light to turn green and crossed, rolling his eyes at the tall gangly boy on the other side of the road. Neville Longbottom hadn’t changed much in the few years since he had left Hogwarts; he was still a few shells short of a beach, and one of the best friends that Draco had.
“Thought you were never going to get here,” Neville grabbed Draco’s arm and pulled him none-too-gently towards the huge building where they were supposed to meet Weasley and Finnegan. “The new CD comes out today, and I want to be the first to get it.” He dragged Draco after him to the front of the long line that had gathered outside the store and yelled, “Oy Finnegan, he finally showed.”
Seamus Finnegan turned round, a huge grin on his ruddy face. “What took you so long? I thought Neville was going to have a fit…”
“I couldn’t get one of those taxi things to stop for me. I stood at the front of the line, by the signpost, but none of them even slowed down.” Draco would never understand what the hell Muggles needed those car things for, he far preferred to fly everywhere on his Firebolt Contractor.
Ron had heard all of this and he couldn’t help the laughter that escaped around the huge chunk of fresh bread he had just shoved in his mouth. “The great Draco Malfoy couldn’t figure out how to hail a cab in a city filled with them.”
“Oh stuff a sock in it, Weasley.” Draco shook his head and sneered at the boy who had strangely become a better friend to him than the boys that he had grown up with. “So what is it we’re lining up for again?” He had no idea why he had actually woken up and made his way into Muggle London at seven in the morning, but all Neville had told him was that it would be worth his while.
“Britney Spears…” Seamus leered perversely in the direction of the 3-metre high cardboard cutout in the window behind him.
“Jennifer Lopez…” Neville chimed in, his cheeks flushed as thoughts of the large-bottomed Latino woman flashed through his mind.
“Oh please, Longbottom…Britney Spears is younger, and she looks about 1000% times better than J’Lo, have you actually seen the size of her arse?” Seamus continued to leer at the Britney cutout, his eyes wide and his mouth open a little.
“Oh my God, Finnegan, you’re drooling…” Draco had no idea who either of the women his friends were talking about were…but it was obvious they were infatuated with the unknown.
Leaning back against the wall he tried to figure out what either of them saw in the two women they were arguing about. What did he need with some popstar with a large arse, or makeup covering huge zits on her rather plain face? He had someone far better than that…Ginny Weasley. Not that he would ever tell Ron about it!
Title: The Future’s So Bright
Words: Repulsion, Insecticide, Mechanic, Triagonal, Duchess
Characters: Harry, Xander, Ginny.
Situation: Futureselves for an hour
Harry slumped down on the front door step and stared, intensely focused on the scene in front of him. A shudder of repulsion rolled down his spine when he realised that his future self was actually happy…with Pansy Parkinson! He had to fight back the urge to throw up when a little boy – who couldn’t have been more than about five – ran up to him and screamed in a tone that was familiar only because of its similarity to Parkinson’s own voice in his time. He had actually had children with her? Oh Merlin, what had he been thinking? Had he been drinking insecticide when he proposed? Part of him was tempted to ask his future self what he had been thinking, getting involved with the one woman he would have rather cut his arms off than touch.
Ginny thought about walking over to sit beside him; she had experienced her own shocks this afternoon. When she noticed the way that he was focused on the events currently unfolding on the lawn two houses away from the one where they had landed when they had stupidly cast that spell in the Hogwarts’ dungeons she decided against it. He was probably so much better off on his own right now to think.
“Ginny, my Duchess, the one woman by whom all others should be judged…Why are you leaving me?” Ginny watched as her future self, someone who had gained the same kind of weight that her own mother carried, picked up a hefty triagonal suitcase and half-carried, half-dragged it down the path to where a car that could really do with a mechanic was parked. “Ginny, don’t leave me.” His voice was even more pathetic in the future than it had been in the past. Why had she married someone who so obviously had no kind of future ahead of him? She should have stuck with Neville, or maybe even tried to date a Slytherin…Michael Corner? She had actually married Michael Corner?! Biting back the urge to confront her future self, Ginny finally moved until she was sitting beside the slightly green and very dejected Harry. “Not exactly how we expected it to be is it?” she asked the question quietly, not sure if Harry actually wanted this temporary peace interrupted.
Xander was in hell! He watched as a fat, balding, obviously drunk, old man climbed out of a banged up car that had definitely seen better days, and stumbled unsteadily up a driveway. “Mel…Mel open the door you…you…” he didn’t even manage to finish his sentence, the drink had obviously rendered him incapable of acting in any way sensible.
“That’s me?” Xander wanted to jump up and down and have a temper tantrum. That horrid, greasy idiot was him? Was anything in his life ever going to end up how he wanted it?
Rushing back to the house where he had earlier arranged to meet the two people responsible for him being in this mess in the first place, Xander stood in front of the two shocked teens, breathless, an expression of horror on his face. “We have got to get out of here…”
Nodding, knowing that what the American boy was saying was right, Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out the strange portkey that Hermione had told him he shouldn’t touch. “Curiosity killed the cat,” he mumbled under his breath as Xander and Ginny grabbed hold of him tightly and the sickening pull of the portkey dragged them back to their present time.
Sitting in the dungeon, the smell of rotting entrails and other nasty things that Harry didn’t want to know about, filling the damp air around them, Harry looked at his friends. “Well what do we do to prevent that from happening?”
Ginny grinned…”I kind of hope that was a warning…you know, a possible future. I’m going to find a Slytherin and snog him. There is no way I am going to marry Michael Corner!” She headed off before Harry had a chance to say anything, although the stunned expression on his face probably said a lot already.
“I think I’m going to go for a jog around the grounds,” the memory of his portly, balding self still in his head, Xander left the room quickly.
“I think that I am going to ask Snape about sterilisation,” Harry had no idea how he ended up with the Slytherin princess in the future, but at least he could make sure that he never had the urge to procreate with her…
Title: Not So Different
Words: Spoil, wandaroo (small black monkey), macaroni, fife and smoothie (RASPBERRY – possible exchange word or 6th word)
Characters: Buffy, George, Blaise (with optional characters)
Buffy Summers was fed up. It was seven-thirty on a Saturday night and she was stuck in the middle of London with no money, nowhere to go and no idea how she had got there in the first place. Well actually she did have some idea. “When I get back to Sunnydale,” she muttered under her breath as she made her way through the darkened unfamiliar streets. “When I get back I am going to make a smoothie out of all her damn magic books and empty it down the toilet.”
With that thought in her mind, Buffy pushed open the door of the rather dank pub that looked to be the only place open, the filthy sign swinging creakily in the rather strong and cold London wind.
The pub was virtually deserted. In one corner a small group of rather loud redheaded men were all gathered round a round table that was covered with empty glasses and bottles. In another corner, hidden in shadows, a beautiful dark haired man sat with an equally beautiful blond-haired man who could have been Spike’s twin. As thoughts of Spike filled her head for a moment, Buffy allowed herself a smile at the thought of how much the blond would have liked this quaint, dark English pub.
Slipping onto a tatty stool at the bar she coughed until she caught the attention of the man who had been cleaning some of the dirtier glasses with an equally dirty teacloth. “What can I get ya, Missy?” his voice was gruff, the accent thick enough to make it almost impossible to understand.
“A glass of water and your telephone?” she smiled at him and watched as he walked over to a dripping rusty tap and turned it on, the water ran bloody brown for a few moments before becoming almost clear.
“’Ere’s your water, don’t have no telephone though.” He shrugged, “Sorry.”
Pursing her lips for a few moments, Buffy thoughtfully took a sip of her water and wondered about how she was going to deal with the situation at hand. She would have to find another way of getting hold of Willow and Dawn. She considered asking for directions to the nearest telephone box, but she got the feeling the rather questionable barman would have no idea what she was talking about.
George had seen the petite blonde walk through the darkened door of the Leaky Cauldron and he had been unable to look away from her since. He could tell that she was probably closer to Charlie or Bill’s age than his own, but that didn’t stop him thinking about her as more appetising than his mum’s best macaroni cheese. Not wanting to spoil the idea of her in his mind, George ignored all the bawdy suggestions from his twin and just continued to watch her as she slowly drank her water. “Stop staring at her like some bloody pathetic wandaroo, Forge,” Fred mumbled in his ear. “Go over there and talk to her, she’s luscious, like a ripe raspberry.”
Glaring at his brother, George was about to stand up when he noticed one of those little shit Slytherins who had been sitting in the corner had had the same idea and was already walking over to stand next to the blonde vision.
“You’d better go and get her before Zabini shows her why he is known as the Slyth-whore,” Ron mumbled unclearly round a mouthful of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans.
Narrowing his eyes, George stood up and walked up over to the bar, his most charming smile on his face, and a glint of irritation in his eyes at the gall of Blaise Zabini to be poaching on what he considered to be his territory.
Standing behind the blonde, his ears open for any opportunity to get involved in the conversation, Zabini was doing all the talking, the girl only having managed to get out two words, ”Yes,” and ”Buffy,” her name.
Waiting for Zabini to shut up was like waiting for the Hogwarts’ express to stop at a station that it wasn’t going to pass through, completely pointless. The dark-haired Slytherin didn’t shut up, not for five seconds, not even when he had taken a mouthful of Ogden’s Fire Whiskey.
Buffy was getting bored. Did this boy ever shut up? He had been talking non-stop for nearly an hour; and all of it about himself, how he had played something called Quidditch for his school or something, and how he was the best player they had ever seen. Somehow, looking at him and the way he was dressed – not a button out of place – she doubted the latter claim very much.
She could sense that someone else was behind her, but heeding the rule her mother had ingrained into her, she didn’t want to be rude to someone who seemed as though he was only trying to be nice. Buffy didn’t turn away to try and involve this third unidentified person in the most boring conversation she had been privy to since the lecture from Giles about taste in music, and how his was far superior to the noise that she liked to listen to.
Finally the boring upstart had grown tired of impressing her with his talk and leaned in for a rather ungentlemanly kiss. Feeling his lips brushing against hers, Buffy leaned backwards, almost falling off her stool, and perfectly into the arms of the man who had been patiently standing behind her all this time. “Oh, thank you,” she smiled. The man standing behind her had hair as red as Willow’s, and the most mischievous eyes.
Blinking in confusion, Buffy felt as though she had actually met her match in this man, he had yet to say anything to her at all, but there was something in his eyes that drew her. “You’ve saved me twice already…”
George, a slight blush on his pale cheeks, was taken aback when the pretty blonde, Buffy, brushed her fingers against his cheek and pressed a light kiss to his lips. Leaning forward to respond to the slight touch, George was stunned when all he felt was air where she had been.
Landing on the cold floor of the kitchen, Buffy blinked as the overhead light was turned on. For a moment she was disorientated, but then she heard the hushed tones of the fife coming from the stereo speakers in the living room – Willow had some very peculiar music tastes – and knew that she was at home. “Damnit!”
Eight thousand miles away, in a world not too dissimilar from hers, George Weasley slumped back down on the chair he had so recently vacated, “Oh bloody hell!”
So there you go, my three challenges. They aren’t that great, but they got me writing and they were actually fun to do!