My bad on the actor screwup for Gandalf/Dumbledore Though I've still not seen more than bits and pieces of most of the HP films, it's no excuse for that level of stupid.

@Blorcyn and ViolentRed: I saw those phrases too and had thought it was a love potion right up until I hit the simile construction: "His love for her was as potent and as all-consuming as a flask-full of amortentia," which strongly suggests otherwise; similes compare unlike things, that his love for her was "as if" a love potion, yet wasn't. I was looking for that "well, what else would it be?" and was thrown for a loop. Perhaps I was reading too literally, but that's how I read it.

The virgin hair trap is a classic example of the kind of thing that should be telegraphed beforehand, probably revealed somehow in the banter between Dean and Seamus. Same with the horn bit, perhaps by Seamus making a masturbatory gesture that the reader picks up on, but Harry doesn't.

Subtle is good, Blorcyn, but it's easy to go too far and lose readers. A vivid case in point is this failed story (an old TGYH entry, actually, and one of my own first attempts at fanfiction). Its reviews are telling: it's abundantly clear that I completely failed to connect with probably more than half the readers on something that I, as the writer, thought was pretty obvious at the time.

I have fond memories of this thread. I've lost track of how many of us got a start in HP fanfiction from TGYH prompts.

 

Someone nice mind helping me grammar check this challenge, please?

 

All can, mate. Post away.

 

The Revelation
​

Lavender’s day had started wonderfully; it was the Monday after the Easter holidays and Hogwarts flourished under the sun. The flowers had come out mid march, and bloomed after months of captivity during the cold winter months. An announcement had been posted the week before break stating the schedule for the fifth year’s career advice sessions with their heads of house.

Her last name was Brown, so naturally she would have the first session with Professor McGonagall that afternoon.

Lavender chewed her nails – one of her least desirable habits, she knew – while she thought of what kind of job she would be good at. Honestly she didn’t know she was always talking about somebody else, even during classes. Now that she thought on it she realized she’d never done real well in any of her classes. Indeed if Hogwarts were like her muggle primary school she would have been held back a few years.

Maybe Parvarti and I should stop talking so much during our classes… thought Lavender briefly before quashing the idea Nah! It’s just too much fun, besides it’s not like we don’t get by in our classes

She wondered what Parvarti would do when she noticed that the clock above the fireplace was telling her she was more than five minutes late to her session.

“Shite!” she exclaimed grabbing her bag and running towards and through the portrait hole. She hurtled down the corridor wondering the best way to the Defence Against the Dark Arts tower.
When she ran into…

“Harry?”

“Oh hi Lavender, aren’t you supposed to be in the first career advice session with McGonagall?”

“Yeah, I’m late I need to get there fast” she replied.

“Oh if you go down a floor and stick your wand in the groove on the portrait of that ugly old hag with the house elf, you’ll come out in the courtyard outside the Defence tower. Good luck” he said as he waved and ran off towards the portrait of the fat lady.

She ran for it hoping that there really was a secret passageway to the Defence courtyard and that he wasn’t simply having one on her. She went down the flight of stairs to the sixth floor and stuck her wand in a groove on the portrait Harry had described revealing a long tube. The tube was so long she could not see where it ended.

Placing her bag in front of her and stowing her wand she crawled into the tube. Just then she realized the reason she couldn’t see the end.

I’ll get you for this Harry she thought as the tube went into a straight drop off before turning right, then slanting downwards, before twisting again; and soon she lost track and tried focusing on not losing her lunch.

A few minutes later Lavender came tumbling out of the tube and rolled out into the courtyard from the concealed passage. Running for all she was worth she made for Professor McGonagall’s office in the Defence tower.
Knocking on the door she waited for another few minutes before being told to come in.

“Why Ms Brown thank you ever so much for joining me, I thought I might of gotten the dates for the meetings wrong” said the ever stern Professor McGonagall with a hint of annoyance.

“Sorry Professor, I was lost in thought. I was thinking about what I wanted to be, I’d never really thought about it before.”

“I see well then. What’s your best subject?” prompted the Professor.

“Well…” trailed Lavender thinking furiously “I’m good in History of Magic, and Divination, I think Professor”

“Then let me go and look for the index, I’m sure we can find something for you”

“There aren’t many jobs which need either of those subjects I’m afraid” began Professor McGonagall “Most are either teaching positions or for ‘true seers’, we’ll set those aside for now, now tell me what’s your next best subject?”

“I’d have to say… I’d have to say Charms, Professor” came the reply.

“Well if you’d chosen a different elective or electives than Divination you might have had a few options; as it is there aren’t any. Cursebreaking requires charms, ancient runes, and arithmancy as a minimum, which is the case for many of the others”

“Don’t worry Ms Brown I’m sure we’ll find something for you. Winky!” she called and a creature with tennis ball sized eyes and large ears entered with a pop.

“Could you get Ms Brown and myself some tea please? Oh, and would you ask Dobby to fetch Ms. Brown’s grades for the past five years please?” inquired Professor McGonagall.

“Winky is being pleased to serve miss. Would either of the missus like cream and biscuits?”

Slightly taken aback Lavender said “Oh hi there… Winky was it? I’d love some cream and biscuits if it’s not a bother”

“Miss is trying not to bother? Miss should not worry about Winky shes is only an elf” replied the creature.

After McGonagall replied that she did not want any cream but that biscuits sounded lovely the creature left with another pop.

Winky reappeared with a tray of biscuits, a kettle of tea, and two steaming cups already filled with the tea.

“Dobby wills be here soon with the files for the missus” said Winky leaving once again to be replaced a minute later by another strange; if not stranger version of the creatures.

“Dobby has brought the Professor the grades; Dobby should finish cleaning his hats now” and with that the ‘elf’ was gone.

“Ah here we are Ms Brown…” started Professor McGonagall her face going grim as she scanned the sheets.

“What is it Professor?” asked Lavender worried.

“You’ve done so poorly; I’m afraid there are only three options for you, unless miracles occur and you are to get an O in all of you OWL’s”

“Wha… what are my options, Professor?” asked Lavender breathless.

“I’m afraid you’ll either have to dance for tips to make a living, become a secretary at the ministry, or sell your body” said the Professor jaw set,expression and proclamation grim.
___________________________________________________________
Prompt: Write Lavender's 5th year career counseling session with McGonagall (Umbridge optional). Pity that she only has three career options: exotic dancer, prostitute, and Ministry official.

Length: 1k+ Words

 

Here you go. Ended up about two thousand words. I kept it short, so it's a bit shallow and really needs to be fleshed out. I didn't bother because I mostly used it as an exercise to practice my first-person view.

The Fall​

Even behind my invisibility cloak, the statue's eyes seemed to burn into me. After the young priest had come over and tried to talk to me, I had decided I'd be better off by being invisible when I came to the church.

I almost regretted that, now. It was just a statue of Jesus on the cross, sure, but it almost seemed to be judging me.

I still don't know why I come here. I'm not particularly religious. The Dursley's were never they type of family to bring me to Sunday Mass, which was just fine with the both of us. I didn't have to go someplace I didn't really want to, and they got to rant about how the freak wasn't religious.

The note crinkled in my hand as I sat there quietly. I look back down on it, but I don't need to look at it to read it. I've read it so many times already that I already know what it says.

Harry-

I promised to be more honest with you at the end of term, and so I shall. I believe the Dark Lord might tamper with your post, or at least try to at some point in an effort to sneak a Portkey past my defenses. Because of that very real possibility, I ask that you refrain from using Hedwig to write your friends. I know it is quite a bit to ask of you after the events at the Ministry, but I am only trying to protect you. Fawkes also has an emergency Portkey for you in the event of an emergency. Simply grasp it and say 'Lemon Drop' to activate it.

As promised- Snape has reported that Voldemort is extremely weakened after his attempted possession of you, but estimates that he will be back to his normal strength within several weeks.

Albus Dumbledore

Weakened. And here I am, helpless, unable to do anything. I'm the only one who can do something about this, and I don't stand a chance. He is smarter, stronger, and more experienced than me.

And I have to kill him, somehow, and I won't get a better playing field than the one I'm on now.

I fold the note up softly, placing it in my pocket as I stand up, and turn to leave. Voices drift out of the back room, and I don't know why, but I pause to listen. Making up my mind, I fold the cloak tighter around me and as quietly as I can, I make my way to the door to listen in.

“Was your trip comfortable, Michael?” The priest. I recognize his voice.

There's a creak as someone sits in a chair. “It was, Father, thank you.”

“And how was the Vatican?”

“Beautiful. Although there have been troubling incidents lately.”

“Oh?” I can hear the surprise in the priests voice. “Such as?”

“One of the guard's at the vault told me that there was an attempted break in last week. Nothing was stolen, but it's still troubling. And apparently this wasn't a singular incident.”

“Nicodemus, possibly? Going after his brothers and sisters?”

I lean away from the door slightly. What the hell are these people talking about?

“No, I don't believe so. Nicodemus will know that the coins are secure where they are. He'll wait.” Michael leans forward, voice growing troubled. “Eventually, someone will succumb to temptation and take up one of the coins, and then Nicodemus will strike.”

The priest drew in a sharp breath. “Surely not. To take up one of the Fallen-”

Fallen?

Michael made a noise of agreement. “I understand your disbelief, Father. But it is a very real possibility. They guard the coins night and day, but the coins offer great power and their temptation is great.”

I pulled away from the door, as the conversation turned towards a flight to Chicago that Michael had to catch in the morning. Nicodemus, coins, power. I didn't have any idea what they were talking about, and I honestly didn't care. I had enough of my own problems.
------
I ended up waiting about a day before I decided to do it. It had started eating at me almost as soon as the idea popped into my head, but it was so insane I didn't want to do it.

I stared down at the letter I had just penned.

To a Mr. Nicodemus,

I'm probably mistaken, and terribly wrong about this. If this letter makes no sense to you, please, ignore it.

I want a coin.

Meet me tomorrow at noon, in Surrey. The park off of Privet Drive.

I looked at it, debated on putting my name on it, but rolling it up and tying it Hedwig's leg.

“Take this to a Nicodemus, Hedwig.” She looked at me balefully. “I know, it's not much to go on. Just try, alright?” I stroked her neck once, and she took off into the night.
------

I saw him almost right away. I don't know how I couldn't have. He was sitting on a bench, legs folded, amused smile on his face as he stared back at me.

It wasn't until I got closer that I noticed something was odd about him. It only took a glance down at my feet to confirm it.

His shadow was facing the wrong direction.

I walked up to him and he stood, adjusting his suit coat and shifting what I had taken for a very odd tie at first. I looked closer, and it appeared to be an old piece of rope, almost a hangman's noose, but that couldn't be right, could it?

He offered me his hand, smile still on his face. “You must be the young man who wrote me yesterday.”

I shook it. “Harry Potter. You're Nicodemus?”

“I am.” He sat down, watching me calmly. “I am very interested in hearing how you gained knowledge of the coins.”

“I-” I swallowed. “I overheard a priest and some other man talking about them in church yesterday.”

The man's smile widened. “Eavesdropping in a church? My, you're off to a good start already, aren't you?”

I tried to speak calmly, but in reality my voice was shaking. This man scared me, and I wasn't sure why. “I understand that the coins, they give you power?”

Nicodemus nodded once, turning towards the sun. “And what does a wand-wizard want with one of the coins?”

“I-” I paused. “Wand-wizard?”

The man waved me off. “Another time, perhaps. Your community of wizards. I don't believe we've ever had one of you take up a coin.”

I nodded jerkily. “I, uh, I have to kill somebody.”

Nicodemus leaned forward. “Truly?” At my nod he continued. “Splendid! Well, you've certainly come to the right place. The only question is, what will you give me in return?”

I frowned. “What do you want?”

Nicodemus leaned back, fingers tapping his knee as he thought. “I will give you a coin. And in return, I want you to steal something for me. My efforts have been set back some as of late, and your particular talents will be of some help in this venture.”

“Steal something?”

Nicodemus grinned, a soft laugh escaping him. “Please. You're going to murder someone. After that, stealing shouldn't be a problem for your morals.”

I looked at the ground, before speaking softly. “What exactly are these coins?”

I remembered the word I had overheard in the church. The Fallen.

Nicodemus's shark grin grew wider as I caught of glimpse of something ancient dancing behind his eyes. “The best way you will ever be able to understand, Harry Potter,” I rocked slightly as I felt something move me, “will be to take up this.” He held out a hand, and in it was a very worn, very old silver coin.

I looked at it for a moment. “What would I be stealing?”

“Nothing of too much value. Just a very old piece of cloth.”

I nodded. Making up my mind, I reached my hand out. He pulled his back slightly, speaking, “Be sure, Harry. There is no going back from this, and if you regret it, you're already more than useless to me. You're expendable.”

I nodded again, slowly this time, before reaching out. I paused, and then picked up the coin from his hand.

I lifted it up to my eyes, looking at it closely, almost disappointed as nothing happened.

I should have known better than to hand fate a straight line like that.

My hand suddenly burned as the coin flared with heat in my hand. Sulphur filled my nostrils as a burning heat washed over my mind. I distinctly remember falling to the ground, shaking as Nicodemus stood up.

“I wonder, Harry Potter,” he said as he adjusted his coat again, preparing to leave, “what they would say if they knew you had done this. I'll be in touch.”

And then everything went black.

I woke up in the hospital wing, two days later.

Tariel.

The enormity of what I had done hit me. Tariel was a fallen angel. An honest to god, fallen angel. One of the forsaken.

Oh my god.

Remember what we talked about, my host.

I shuddered as his voice entered me, and had to forcibly remind myself of why I had done this. I lifted a shaking hand in front of my face, and gazed upon the mark that would change my life forever. The mark of one of the Fallen.

There was a twinge in my side as I moved and I looked down, spying a long cut down my side, underneath my shirt.

After you passed out, I took the liberty of inserting my coin into your being. I wanted you to see where it was before I healed the wound.

I looked up, and saw Dumbledore staring at me with a disturbed look on his face as the gash slowly disappeared.

“I hope you understand what you have done, Harry.”

I pushed myself up further out of bed. “You know, then.”

His eyebrows narrowed as a look of anger crossed his face. “I know more than you do, I suspect. The creature you have invited in-”

I interrupted him tersely. “His name is Tariel. And he doesn't appreciate being called a creature.”

Dumbledore's shoulders slumped. “It is as I feared then. Why would you do this to yourself, Harry?”

“Why?” I looked at him as anger slowly made it's way onto my face. “Why? You know well why, Headmaster.”

The old wizard stood up. “I'm simply trying to understand, Harry.”

I climbed out of bed. “Because I have to kill Voldemort. I'm the only one who can.” I turned, looking for my wand before speaking again as I continued to search. “And you and I both know that within a month, he'll be back to his normal self, and I will not miss this opportunity!”

I threw the sheets off my bed before looking up at the headmaster. “Where's my wand?”

Dumbledore was silent, before drawing his wand. “I am sorry, Harry. But I can't let you do this to yourself. I will return your wand after I divine some way of removing this-” His face crinkled in distaste. “This creature from you.”

A trap, then. I suggest you kill him, my host.

I looked at Dumbledore steadily. “I need this. It's the only way.”

“No, it's not.” Dumbledore raised his wand. “Forgive me, Harry. I have no choice but to restrain you until I can fix this.”

I closed my eyes, as heat washed over me, and the scent of sulphur filling my nose.

Tariel's laugh echoed through my mind.

Begin.

 

Oh wow... This does sound pretty awesome. No idea how (or why) Harry was in Chicago, or even just any church, but the rest was quite good.

I've always shied away from denarius!Harry, as I really doubt anything could come close to Shezza's work. But this is still a damn interesting read.

 

I didn't read it as Michael talking to Father Forthill, but as Michael talking to Random English Priest #436. Other than that it's a fantastic idea and I'd love to read more of it.

 

You're right. Just some random priest. I put in the letter that Harry wrote to Nico that he wanted to meet tomorrow at the park in Surrey, which I figured would be enough to show they're in england.

EDIT: I just edited in a line about a flight to chicago to clear it up further.

 

Brilliant, that clears it up. I was confused as I remember Forthill saying that only very few priests know of the KotC, so just insta-assumed this was him here. Thanks for the clear up

 

Challenge please? Thanks.

 

A NEW CHALLENGER HAS APPEARED: Oliver of Kingston
Line: Harry knew at once that he had made a grave error in introducing caffeine to the Hogwarts House Elves.
Length: 1-2K

 

Excellent work man.

I can't help but think though that Harry stripped of his wand and brand new to his powers is about to get his ass kicked.

 

Yeah, this. Denarians are pretty bad ass, but enough to beat Dumbledore? Doubtful. Great work though - it has me in the mood to either go read some Dresden files, or one of Shezza's stories.

Are these challenges very helpful for improving writing? I've been simply working on a story of my own to improve lately, but I'm not sure how effective that may be. Of course, I'm far too busy at the moment to write, but I was wondering if I should consider one in the future.

 

I doubt that his wand would change anything in this fight, considering how unskilled is Harry compared to Albus. New powers may give him a little edge, enough to escape, but only if Dumbledore is not familiar with them already.

Anyway, very nice short story.

 

Hey phazer11. I'll give you some comments on your story, but first I want to make a general statement about the TGYH challenges to some of the new folks writing them. I think some people are missing the point a little bit. They're not supposed to be safe workshops on fiction writing (though they can function as such), but rather self contained stories that push the envelope, take risks, and jam characters into crazy situations just to see what will happen. Sometimes your effort will rock, sometimes it'll fall flat, but no matter what, by taking risks as a writer and moving outside your comfort zone, you'll grow.

In the case of your prompt, for example, I was sort of hoping for a humor piece and saw several natural hooks that could have been expanded into such a story: McGonagall primly suggesting that Lavender's broom closet time has been adequate training for how to use her body to please a man, but with her final years at Hogwarts, she may wish to step up her game. McGonagall giving candid pointers, suggesting mouth and tongue training exercises to improve her technique. McGongall commenting that Trewlawny had missed her calling with all this Divination rubbish, that that woman was a legendary slag in her time at Hogwarts and that she'd hoped, if Lavender were going to spend so much time with the woman, that she learn something of value. Umbridge going apeshit over McGonagall's immediate dismissal of Minsitry employment as an option and the ensuing argument between McGonagall and Umbridge, perhaps involving McGonagall standing up to the other witch, as in book 5, but instead of saying she'll do anything in her power to help Harry become an Auror, twist it so she'll do anything in her power to make sure Lavender becomes the best bloody exotic dancer Hogwarts has produced since Lu Chang (Cho's mother). Lavender standing up to Umbridge, saying that she didn't want to demean herself earning Ministerial Kneepads (a reference to Monica Lewinsky's famous comment to Linda Tripp about her Presidential Kneepads). Umbridge offering the girl an internship, which she instantly accepts, only for Lavender to learn that instead of working for the Ministry, Umbridge will be apprenticing her in exotic dancing: Twirl that cardigan. Work it, baby! Lots of options there. All of them can't go into a story, obviously, but one or a few could have.

The prompt itself doesn't work so well as a punch line, though, because it's just not big enough to carry a story on its own. Short stories are all about concept and delivering a killer ending. Novels, though more complex and able to support more complexity than a short story, also need to end well. (Incidentally, if you're having problems finishing stories off, it most likely means that you don't have a good feeling for what the ending should be).

About your prose in general, I think it was altogether a good effort. You were a little out of character with your McGonagall, who is normally very formal, particularly when addressing students in an official capacity. Also, Hogwarts grades generally don't matter as much as OWL and NEWT scores. These are minor things, though.

Some technical points could be improved. You're missing a fair bit of punctuation, which is a little distracting. Also, you have a weird tic with dialog tags:

You probably want:

"What is it, Professor?" Lavender asked worriedly.

or

"What is it, Professor?" Lavender asked, worried.

Minutes-long slides are weird. Make it 'moments' instead.

Aside from a few other ticky-tack things, I don't have much else to say except that it was a good effort, decently written, and I congratulate you on taking a concept and running it through from conception to completion. That counts for a lot in my book and gives you a success to build upon. Good luck!

 

Pers... you WILL write that, won't you? Please?

 

Thanks, I worked on it a bit more than from my first challenge. It's on pg 18 if you wouldn't mind looking it over; mordecai, thaumologist, and Richardc269 were really the only constructive/informative reviews I've gotten. I tried to make it funny but it just wasn't in me so I tried to make it more believable.

I might have done more had I not gotten writers block about 600 words in; I was surprised when I got it to 1018 or whatever it is without it being...

Anyways I'm going to start working on my main fic again; though another challenge wouldn't be unappreciated... I need to start coming up with some responses to challenge requests.

 

If somebody wants to throw another challenge my way I'd appreciate it. I fell out of the habit of writing because of work and school, and this is a good way to force myself to find time for it.

 

A NEW CHALLENGER HAS APPEARED: Samuel Black
Line: "While we didn't find anything illegal or dark, Harry, I must say... fascinating what these muggles have come up with for their bedroom entertainment."
Length: 900-1200 Words

---

And on another note, thanks Palindrome and Grinning Lizard. I'd like to request another challenge as well.

 

May I get a challenge please?