I'll make it a short one then

Line: "And just who do you think you are, walking around the castle in nothing but a codpiece"

Length: as much as you can do in...

Time: 1 hour

 

:facepalm

Aye-aye, Captain. One hour of that it is.

===

In hindsight, he thought rather hazily, blinking muddled brown eyes up at the Deputy Headmistress, perhaps the Quidditch celebrations did go a bit too far.

---

The cheering from the mostly-empty stands had finally begun to subside into something just shy of a dull roar by the time he finally swooped down out of the sky with the rest of the team.

Their Slytherin opposition and their catcalling lackeys had departed the field the better part of half an hour ago, but Frank Longbottom's keen eye had noticed more than a few disgruntled snakes lurking down by the changing rooms and dotting the rest of the landscape up to the front doors of the castle. There had to be close to thirty odd sixth- and seventh year students bedecked in silver and green scattered below.

Smart buggers, I'll give them that, the Seeker thought, scattered just far enough that a Professor wouldn't call it lingering or waiting around. With that he had done a quick fly-around to share the news, halting the Gryffindor team thirty feet off the ground.

"I dunno, boys," he said once they had all gathered together near the goal rings. "We can take them in the air any day of the week, so they turn to numbers on the grounds to even things up a bit too much for my liking. I'd just as soon get down to Alice and celebrate our victory in one piece rather than wake up in the Hospital Wing afterwards."

James shrugged, scanning out over the mostly dusk-covered grass for a particular greasy haired bat.

"I suppose we could go down there and duel the ruddy hell out of them," he agreed. "Or..." trailing off as Madam Hooch whistled shrilly in irritation at their loitering, James smiled one of those stupid lopsided smiles he always wore whenever a plan was hatching. "We could kill some time with a celebratory scrimmage match to honor our victory. Anyone still waiting around after half an hour is fair game for a flyby - down a snake, down a round, Black has a couple of bottles of firewhiskey hidden away in the Shrieking Shack we can pick up when we're done!"

Frank tried to smother his grin, giving his fellow sixth-year a disapproving stare that fell flat on its face and became a mirthful cackle of approval almost immediately.

One face or another stood out in that disjointed crowd that the whole team had at least a single grievance with, and the rest chipped in their own agreement to the plan - Sirius more enthusiastically than the rest.

---

Swallowing the contents of his seventh round, James Potter laughed uproariously, sliding back against his locker in the changing rooms. The clock hanging up on one wall chimed nine times, warning him, Frank, and Sirius, the last of the team still hanging around now that they had had their fill of hunting, that the hour was essentially too late.

The noise seemed to sober up Frank. He blinked blearily and rubbed at his glasses with the corner of his jersey. "Blimey. I think... I think I've kept Alice waiting long enough, mates. I'll have to risk flying up to the Tower and slipping through a window at this rate." His grimace said enough - if the doors were locked, as they probably were, then the three of them were going to have their work cut out for them getting back in.

Sirius shrugged and swallowed around round cheerfully. "Or you could try that door beneath the stands leading up to the third floor." He patted a pocket on his robes and dug out an old parchment, whipping his wand out the next moment and uttering an incantation as he tapped it to the center of the sheet. "I solidly swear that I am up to no good."

Lines of ink blurred up from the point of contact and spread, covering a bit of boundary here and there just outside of the castle itself. He and James shared a surprisingly measured look, and at the other Marauder's slight nod, Sirius pressed the map into Frank's hands.

"Be a sport and take good care of this until the morning. We'll meet you up there shortly."

Frank stared at the treasure in his hands, then up to his friends, and back again. "How in the... when did... blimey, old Slughorn's on his way out of the Great Hall now!"

His fellow teammates stood up. James dug into the locker at his back and frowned - apparently the snakes had raided it on their way out earlier that evening. It was empty... except for the one most precious item tucked away on the top-shelf. He dug out his Invisibility Cloak and swept it out with a pleased flourish.

"On our way, gentlemen," he snagged the half-empty bottle and took another quick swig straight off the end. "Frank, you take the map and head through the stands. Sirius, the Whomping Willow is probably a good bet for this." He handed the bottle to his best-mate and shrugged the Cloak around his shoulders, holding it open enough for the others. "We'll cut off and make for the castle separately once away from the, ah, evidence."

---

He should have expected the mud, actually. And probably the other careful traps and curses scattered around after leaving the Slytherins alone on the grounds for so long. His jersey had finally finished shredding to dust just after emerging from some shrubbery located near the front doors, but thank Merlin his Cloak was otherwise intact.

The only thing he still had on was his codpiece - even his shoes had been eaten alive on the way, and that kind of talent just reeked of Snape's hand. The foul git couldn't have expected him to have his family's Invisibility Cloak tucked away.

The Professor was still busy patrolling the grounds. Sooner or later he was bound to stumble over a stunned - pity Frank's conscience intervened there - and Disillusioned victim. A few of the ones closer to the Forest might have been snacked on already, though.

Getting inside was a simple matter of waving his wand around long enough to get through the charms locking it down. Slughorn was professional enough not to rely on anything an Alohamora could fix.

At last James finished the issue off and hastened inside. He was well on his way up the Third Floor corridor when he slipped up - all that mud tracked inside on the balls of his feet and his toes left a rather condemning trail.

"Stupefy!" the red jet hit him square between the shoulders before he had even processed the incantation. When he opened his eyes again, it was to find himself staring up into the stern expression of his Head of House.

"James Potter," she uttered flatly. His Cloak was laying underneath him and bunched up around his head, revealing his identity as much as his state of undress. "I suppose it is you we have to blame for poor Horace's current state of affairs - the missing students. And just who do you think you are, walking around the castle in nothing but a codpiece of all things?"

===

Oi. Slightly over an hour - revisions and research took up too much time, but here it is. Just shy of 1200 words.

 

Challenge accepted. It's about 1700 words though.

-

In the eight years following the last great wizarding war, sacrifices had been made to ensure the survival of their race. Lives had been given freely, in order to stop the inexorable pull of Voldemort, and when I had tricked the serpent king into biting his own throat, the celebrations had been weak at best. My friends suffered, as they watched family members fall, and while I felt their angst, I was miles away. What other reaction could a man who had had everything he ever loved torn away by people he'd trusted, worked with, and even died for. Fish in schools didn't face the obliteration that Voldemort had wrecked upon our tightknit society, and yet, when it was all finished, we were still swimming in a riptide of blood.

Supremacy sickens me. It's no wonder I hate the word, having been so used to our Daily Prophet blabbing about it like fools for months on in, claiming the unpure had left our society desolate and wasted, despite the fact that it went from bad to worse as the Purebloods united. Had they forgotten the purpose of the war we had just ended? Had they really believed Voldemort a martyr for their cause?

Thus, the martyr on the otherside of the lines was ridiculed, attacked and denigrated in the press, while the sycophants made moves in the darkness. In the light, our were burned at the stake; at night, we were huddled inside our homes like the war had never ended.

As we found, the great wizarding war had just begun.

"Hermione," I called, walking down the well-lit hallway of the only home I'd ever known. The bushy-haired woman turned, the abject frustration on her face plain to see. "Please wait," I said, stumbling forward on a heavily-bandaged knee that throbbed angrily under the stress. When she continued walking, I nearly cried out, but the noise died in my throat as she turned the corner.

Things had not been well since Ron had passed, but I had been sure they were getting better before news of Hermione's parents deaths reached Hogwarts. Even in the Australian outback, no one could be certain to escape the multitudes of white-masked vigilantes out fighting the good fight, murdering in the name of He Who Must Not Be Named.

Blonde-hair appeared in the corner of my vision, and an increasingly-familiar, almost catlike body leaned into my side, corraling me into an alleyway before the girl in question pressed her lips hungrily against my own. I sighed -- whether in relief or frustration I could not tell you -- and returned her kiss a bit more gently, knowing that she had been trying to distract me from my perpetual sadness.

It had worked, but only briefly, as the feeling settled into my gut once more. "If I could just speak to her for one minute, Luna--"

"She'll come around. She knows it's not your fault, Harry," she promised, her voice calm and collected. "How could it be? We're fighting thousands of Death Eaters across two continents with one Scottish castle and, what, fifty students? She's know that there was no way you could have protected her parents, especially since she was the only one who knew where they were. She'll have to come to terms with losing her parents on her own time." She smiled, this time a bit more shakily. "Just like we did."

I nodded, but I didn't want to agree with her. She had become like a wife to me in the last three years, though we had no intentions of ever consolidating the relationship in the wake of our true loves' respective deaths.

For Luna, it was Neville, the charitable contributor that gave us plants that never needed to be watered or given sunlight, and had sustained six years of students at Hogwarts. Their child was now walking and talking, and in time, the young man would share their quirky nature and powerful spirit.

For me, it had been more than one woman, and even now it was tremendously difficult to determine who I missed more. Ginny, with her lively presence, always with me no matter what trouble we faced -- following Death Eaters into their hideouts outnumbered fifteen to one, destroying one of their strongholds from the back of a Norwegian Ridgeback, and, on the night she died, intercepting a message that would have condemned us all.

Hogwarts had been attacked, but thanks to her timely interference, she had saved everyone in the school at only eighteen years old.

"I know, Luna," I finally said, having shuddered as the conversation grew stale, our tortured history having made its presence felt once again. I swept an arm around her lithe shoulders and pulled her even closer, encircling my arms around her waist. "Thank you," I offered, and she shook her head. Her cheek was on my chest when she spoke.

"No, Harry. Thank you. You have given us a place to live our lives, and no matter how the people on the outside mistreat us for it, we will always be grateful to you."

I didn't want people to thank me for the shithole their lives had become, but it was in everyone's nature to look on the bright side of things, as it was often very likely that the darker side would suckerpunch us in the jaw when we least expected it. Some positivity remained because the majority of our inhabitants were women, while only a few of the professors were men and ten or twenty of the students young boys. In a strange way, having mothering presences in reach made us all feel compelled to shake off the ominous news reverberating around the country.

"The Daily Prophet reported a Sirius Black sighting yesterday. Can you believe they still insist upon that tripe, even though Shacklebolt cleared him when he was office? Sometimes I have to wonder what the Ministry is putting in people's food these days..."

"Nargles, I'm sure," came a deadpan voice from our right, and a brief smile flickered across Luna's face. The blonde turned and greeted our companion with a kiss and, though I had seen it many times by now, I still felt a little strange seeing Luna and Cho locking lips. Having been with both in intimate, romantic situations, I probably shouldn't have felt anything but lust and affection, but it was sad to think that our tiny, restricted world had created their relationship. Fortunately, no one made a big deal out of our extended arrangement, and though the students giggled awkwardly when presented with the evidence, even they understood what our generation was going through.

My first and only wife had been Ginny, but I had shared a similar love affair with Su Li. The thin Korean girl had been a blessing in disguise; after coming to Hogwarts with her throat all but decimated from screams from hours of the Cruciatus curse, I had helped her to learn to speak again. Her husky, almost-ghostly voice had eventually formed the words, "I love you," -- the first thing she had said in nigh on six months.

We had consumated our love in silence, and the fierce burning in my stomach had finally been satiated. But again, her life had been stolen from me, as sickness slowly drained her of the desire to live -- and to be with me. When she passed, I thought that I would never love another.

For months, I barely ate, convinced that we were all damned to destruction and that only a just God could take us away from the sickening approximation of life we were forced to lead. I took on an entire contingent of crooked aurors by myself, and in my most domineering show of magical prowess, I left them all deceased outside of the barricaded Minister's office. On the verge of death, Hermione had found me and Portkeyed me away, and with the help of a few friends, she had slowly brought me back to life. Of course, I'd never be able to walk as well as before, having taken a cutting curse that nearly ripped off my leg at the knee, but I could still hold a wand, and that was all that mattered.

The idea to change our way life had been devised by Ron before his passing. Jokingly, he had asked Hermione if we could move back into Hogwarts with our friends -- Parvati, Padma, Susan, and Gabrielle -- and she had actually considered the idea. Before long, we had recruited and saved many more people, using our former auror ties to attract the best and brightest wizards to defend our walls. But the Ministry went after women almost exclusively, knowing that to expand, they would have to be certain that each Pureblood woman procreated with a Pureblooded man, thus ruining completely clean marriages in favor of enforced slavery and prostitution. Women had flocked to Hogwarts in the beginning, but few could deal with the lifestyle and even more had been killed in yet another Battle of Hogwarts.

Ginny had died, Ron had died, and Neville had died, but Hogwarts' walls still remained, battered and beaten but resolute.

It was nearly a year later that Luna and I made love for the first time, as Cho watched from the shadows, and then eventually joined in. As our passion became more and more apparent, so did the obvious fact that what we were doing was necessary to save us. It was the blonde girl who had proposed the idea: to create a harem, where women could live in their own quarters without fear of men, while still doing their level best to bring new wizards and witches in the world.

They say that harems don't work, but I plan to prove them wrong.

 

Not bad. Setting is believable, if messed up. Should have turn up the difficulty by wanting it to work in the world more or less like in the canon. Though that may be impossible to write without it being received as wish fulfillment of the author.

 

A polyamorous relationship is almost impossible to write in a way that doesn't sound like bad porn. Props to Don for finding a situation where it makes sense-ish.

Now now, easy with the cheek. I wasn't gonna give you a serious prompt if you're in the middle of one. Beside, this thread allows me to see all the great lines and ideas I've never been talented enough to write by myself get fleshed out.

So shaddup and dance my little writer monkeys.

 

Well, technically speaking, I'm in the middle of two - Tommy B's Weasley sweater one that I haven't made a lick of progress on in months, and that Naruto one that I'm pondering how best to tackle in my spare time.

A bit of outside-creative drive can help spark off the writing, thus why I'm taking spare challenges right now. That said, the codpiece challenge was definitely trying.

I'll take another.

Good writing, Don. I'm outta thumbs at the moment, but yeah.

EDIT: Also! Revised version of minhoto's challenge-response can be found at FFN now > And I titled it, too.

 

That impossibility is what makes it interesting to me. To take this wish fulfillment concept and completely sell it to the readers. A harem may be a little too much though. A good ménage à trois should be easier.

 

I'd be impressed to see someone here write a poly story with more then one male character in the grouping. IMO, I'd take the wish fulfilment out of the story, and ground it more in the realities of what a poly relationship looks like in real life.

Multiple women but one man is the thing of stories (generally), two of each gender is more common. Five is the biggest I've ever know of, and anything larger becomes a bit unwieldy.


Correction; I'd like to see someone write a good story, where the fact that the main character is in a poly relationship be just one aspect of it, not the centrepiece. I want action and good drama, not a super!harry smut fic.

 

Length: 500-1000 words
Line: People thought that Albus Dumbledore is gay. They couldn't be more wrong.

 

Category: Fantasy
Length: 2000 or so
Line: "Sometimes I forget that magic is wondrous. It breaks the rules of reality. What you made there... is wondrous."

Category: Comedy
Length: 500
Line: "No... this is so wrong. You are NOT my bartender. There is no spell in creation that will make me drink what you pour!"


Category: Dark Arts
Length: 1500+
Line: He was sure that there was no such thing as angels or devils or demons. He'd come to the undeniable conclusion that he would have to be the first.

Category: Mature
Length: depends on how serious you take it; less comedy = longer story
Line: "You mean never ever? With your reputation I assumed... well I suppose we all did. Wait. Why are you looking at me like that?"

Have at you, collectively!

 

I hope it is OK reuse ideas in this way.

 

Ha. I would probably write a parody were Albus is pretending to be gay to hide his womanizer tendencies. This one was better and unexpected. Just as it should be with challenges.

 

I may write it one day if I figure out how to make it work without changing his canon characterization. He loves women, they love him and men assume that he is gay. It should be probably written from a female perspective. A character that would have the most amusing reactions to discovery of this side of the Headmaster. Maybe Tonks?

 

If someone could toss me a prompt, I'd be appreciative. (I just read some Cormac McCarthy and am looking to write something dark and minimalist.)

 

A couple of ideas:

- When Voldemort's body hit the floor Harry thought it was all over. How could he have known that the Elder Wand could speak? - if only in whispers.

- Harry, Ron and Hermione think they're alone in the Forest of Dean. They're not.

- Wandless, suffering the after-effects of a shoddily applied memory charm and alone but for Hedwig, Harry must make his way back to Hogwarts. Only the Forbidden Forest blocks his path.

 

Thanks, Taure. I think I'll run with the first one. I'll Have something up by Monday.

 

There are also old list of unused prompts, some quite interesting: https://forums.darklordpotter.net/showpost.php?p=391986&postcount=265 and https://forums.darklordpotter.net/showpost.php?p=508403&postcount=556