Welcome to the 2024 Q3 Bitesize Competition - Week 1

Topic(s): Specific parts of Diagon Alley

Word count: Under 500 words
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Bitesize writing competitions will differ from our typical writing competitions. When we do bitesize writing competitions, each small prompt will have around five days for everyone to write a scene (or even just a sentence). During the weekend, we will compare and review each others entries. None of these prompts should take more than 500 words to write. If you have no interest in even wanting to write, don't vote.

Deadline: Saturday, October 21st at 11:59pm (23:59) PST​

Discussion: Sunday, October 22nd ​

Send your scenes/sentences to @Lindsey once you're done. On the day they are due, I will post all the entries in a single post. During the weekend, we can discuss each others entries and how to improve them.

Voting Rules
We will not have official voting like normal competitions. Instead we will have a discussion on how to improve the scenes. If you wish, you can pick your favorite entry.

Got an idea for a future prompt? Put it in this thread!

 

Winner is: Specific parts of Diagon Alley

Competition has been updated with dates. Time to write!

 

ENTRIES
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Entry One​

Four months and five days after the Battle of Hogwarts, Diagon Alley still bore the scars of war. It was hard to look at it and not remember how it'd looked in his third year, or at least how he remembered it having looked in his third year, which felt like a decade ago.

Madam Malkins' had new fashions on display, robes in dazzling colors that reminded Harry faintly of Dumbledore. Ollivander had returned to his shop, and the window had been repaired, the stocks of wands had been replenished, and even the fine lines of dust had been restored to how they had been. If anything had changed about the wandmaker's store, it was that the plaque had been exchanged for a newer one. Outside of Flourish and Blotts, stacks of books that had been produced by the Ministry's presses last year lay rotting in their baskets.

What bothered Harry, though, was that Fortescue's was still empty. Some effort had been made to clean the rubble out, but otherwise it still stood as it had been the day Fortescue had been dragged off. The cheerful advertisements of strawberry-and-peanut-butter ice cream and chocolate-and-raspberry topped with chopped nuts were starting to peel themselves off the walls, their colors fading and the sticking charms beginning to fail. The tables outside had disappeared somewhere, and even the sign up top which proclaimed this to be Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour felt oddly hollow.

Drawing his wand he considered casting a charm to try and fix the place up a bit, but something made him hesitate. It didn't quite feel right to start trying to fix Fortescue's, even though the man himself wouldn't ever return, nor would he probably have complained. The idea of touching up the parlour felt, in a word, oddly sacrilegious.

Like walking on someone's grave, in a way.

"What's up?" Ron asked, having returned from dropping in on Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

"Nothing," Harry said. "Thinking, I s'pose. How's George?"

"Needs a hand around the store, I think," Ron said, grimacing. "Business before pleasure, though, yeah?"

"Suppose so," Harry said, pushing up his glasses to rub at his eyelids. "Death Eaters aren't going to catch themselves, are they?"

"Be great if they would, though," Ron said, grinning. Harry couldn't quite agree.

But as they made their way back to their cramped Ministry office, Harry's eyes fell again on Fortescue's. Still there, and still empty: an island of loud silence.

Entry Two​

Nestled between the apothecary and Flourish and Blotts, a narrow, crooked doorway led to Merzifon's Curious Constructs. Its weathered sign, almost invisible unless you knew where to look, bore an intricate sigil of interlocking gears and a crescent moon. A faint hum, barely perceptible, emanated from the door as if the very air around it thrummed with anticipation.

The interior, dimly lit by dozens of floating, orb-like lights, was an enchanting labyrinth of shelves crammed with an array of oddities and magical contraptions. Everywhere Ron’s eyes fell, something moved, clicked, or glimmered in the half-light. There were self-folding maps that twisted and turned as if alive, displaying ever-changing routes through the alleyways of ancient cities. A set of finely wrought bronze telescopes sat on a table, their lenses shifting and swiveling on their own, capturing glimpses of constellations that couldn’t possibly be visible in the daytime.

The air smelled faintly of incense and something metallic, a sharp tang of ozone that hinted at experiments gone awry. A wooden crate, labeled Ethereal Crickets – Handle With Care, hummed gently on the counter, its contents emitting a faint chirping that seemed to reverberate through the room, the sound occasionally forming snatches of melodies that echoed like whispers from another world.

Behind the counter stood Merzifon herself, a slight, sharp-eyed woman with streaks of silver in her dark hair, her robes a patchwork of colourful fabric and tiny, flickering runes. Her hands, stained with ink and faint scorch marks, moved deftly as she adjusted the settings on a gleaming, brass-bound device. It resembled a compass, though instead of pointing north, its needle spun wildly, only to stop occasionally and emit a soft chime.

“Ah, the Wayfinder,” she said, glancing up with a smile that was equal parts mischievous and secretive. “Not much use in the hands of most, but if you’ve got a destination you truly need to find, it can show you the way—even to places that don’t quite exist yet.” She tapped the glass face of the device, and it glowed a faint, otherworldly blue.

Further into the shop, shelves teemed with curious creations: a small, clockwork dragon that blew tiny, smoke-ringed sparks; a mirror that whispered half-heard truths as you walked past; a cabinet of bottles filled with thick, glistening fog labeled Captured Midnight, each stoppered jar holding a sliver of darkness that seemed to pulse as if alive.

On one wall, a collection of enchanted, ever-spinning globes floated in midair. Each depicted a different world, some resembling Earth, others completely alien. They rotated in harmony, tiny runes swirling over their surfaces like a gentle snowfall, glowing faintly in blues, greens, and golds.

A low, metallic chime sounded from somewhere deeper in the shop, and Ron turned to see a small mechanical owl flutter down from a high shelf, its brass wings gleaming as it alighted on his shoulder. Its glass eyes blinked up at him, a faint whirring noise coming from within its chest.

“Looks like Seraphina Winspur's out of Moonstone dust again,” Merzifon murmured, scanning the little owl’s message before waving her wand and sending it off again. She chuckled softly as it clattered away. “People always need the strangest things at the most inconvenient times, don’t they?”

Entry Three​

“Hagrid?”

“Yarp?”

“What is happening in the park over there?” Harry asked.

The gigantic man turned his head, looking over the crowd through the gates on the other side of the alley. Within an instant his eyes lit up with joy and he began making excited noises. Before Harry realized what was happening he had been picked up and put on Hagrid’s shoulder as he strode, almost ran, towards the park. Harry had to hold on for dear life as he swung from left to right with every step.

The people between the giant and the park scrambled to get out of the way. A small girl holding her Merlin doll was saved from the one-man stampede by the daring Vincent Crabbe. The giant cleared the crowd and dashed over the small square and through the gates, the guard responsible for the gate cowering behind the small counter he had been leaning on.

Behind the gates a great green field stretched out as far as the eyes could see. Not far behind the gate was an enclosure with ugly 10-foot-tall man dressed in rags, it was a troll. Gathered around it was a crowd of wizards, witches and an assortment of other magical creatures. Next to the loathsome creature was a handsome blond man with a smile to die for. The man was explaining to the interested crowd how he had subdued the beast and trained it to follow his commands.

Before Harry knew it he was face to face with the disgusting creature. Sitting on top of Hagrid, Harry had the unique advantage of now reaching the same height as the dumb creature. Below him, the excited caretaker started babbling in some nonsensical troll tongue which caught the creature’s attention.

The actual owner of the troll, a distant but relative of Newt Scamander, who had recently been in the news for his achievements, had been in the middle of a presentation before he had been rudely interrupted by the dumb brute, stood to the side gawking at the sheer gall.

Still speaking to the troll Hagrid was waving his hands, clearly agitated. The good visitors of the park decided to take the better part of valour and let Harry deal with the angry half-giant and the troll.

Hagrid began shouting nonsensical words that with some imagination could be mistaken for English if one was drunk enough. He attempted to argue with the blond master of the troll, who of course did not understand a word.

Realizing the futility of further discourse the half-giant grabbed the troll’s hand and started dragging the surprised beast after him. In the chaos and pulling and shouting Harry lost his grip. He landed on the soft grass, only to jump away at the last second before the troll would have stepped on him.

Confused as he was he remained on the meadow, next to the equally flummoxed blond former troll owner.

Entry Four​

Harry trudged through Diagon Alley, the familiar hum of the shops around him barely registering in his mind.

It had been ages since he'd wandered the cobblestone streets, he glanced at the old signs hanging above the shops, some flickering out and in of existence, swaying in the wind.

It was then that he spotted it—a tiny shop: The Scrying Seat, open for your fortune-telling needs. Harry frowned. He didn't put much stock in Divination—Trelawney's track record was laughable.

He pushed open the door nonetheless.

Inside, the shop was empty save for a carriage split cleanly in half. Below the single door, a line written in light "Please take a seat"

He sighed, in for a penny in for a pound as they said.

He sat down on a seat that faced nothing and the world around him shifted.

Suddenly, he wasn’t in the dusty shop anymore. Through the carriage window, he saw a vast meadow.

And then he noticed her, the woman seated across from him.

She had wrinkled brown skin and sharp eyes. Green tattoos curled across her face. A red veil covered her head.

“Ah, the man who conquered,” the woman said with a kind smile, her voice warm but raspy. “The boy who lived. Never thought I’d be giving a reading to someone as prominent as you”

Harry couldn’t help but smirk. “You didn’t foresee me coming, then?”

The woman chuckled softly, her fingers tapping the table's edge between them.

“It matters not. You’ll have to pay a galleon like the rest, dearie.”

Harry paid her, he figured it would make for a funny story to tell Ron later.

She turned her hand palm up, waiting. Harry placed his hand in hers. She gazed, slowly tracing his palm lines with her thumb. The air around them seemed to grow still.

Harry shifted uncomfortably, but still, the woman said nothing

Finally, she looked up.

“Oh, my dear,” she whispered, her voice heavy. “I am sorry, I have never witnessed sorrow that resembled yours.”

Harry snorted

"Plenty of orphans around"

She ignored him

"Love is written for you my son. You will fall deeply in love with another. This woman... she is splendour. Her smile is a divine gift, her eyes beyond belief.”

“But your path is blocked,” her voice drops to whisper. “She will love you but she will leave you. Your grief will grow.”

Harry sighed, it seemed all seers shared a taste for despair.

“Sure, that all sounds quite sad” he muttered.

"It does, doesn't it" the woman smiling once more "That is our time, or you may choose to get another reading for only ten sickles more"

"No, I think the one was enough"

And just like that, Harry was back in the shop.

Stepping back into Diagon Alley, Harry chuckled, he just got swindled.

He turned to head down the street.

Not far off in the distance, coming out of Madame Malkin's, was Fleur Delacour, her hair shimmering in the afternoon sun. She smiled when she saw him.

And for a fleeting moment, the fortune teller’s words echoed in Harry's mind.

 

Bitesized reviews for a bitsized competition:

I liked the first one's tone, it walked that "sad!" tight rope well without going overboard.

I think the second entry's description of the shop was too busy, wish we spent more time with "Merzifon herself" and/or Ron interacting with his environment/inner dialogue

I liked the start to the third entry, with Hagrid barreling into the park but didn't care for Gilderoy. Liked how Hagrid just took the troll by the hand that was cute.

The fourth one could have included more detail about the shop itself, and the writing style is simplistic even with the word count constraint.

 

General Thoughts:

I suppose I should have expected it, but there's something of a focus on a pointe (what you rosbifs call a "punchline"). To be clear, I don't mean that they're attempts at humor, necessarily, but more a general structure: introduction, the main thing, and then a quick punchline to put the rest into a new context or to exemplify the piece somehow. In #1 it's something meant to be poignant ("islands of loud silence"), in #2 it's more of a "here's where the rest of the scene goes", in #3 it's meant as a capstone to the humour, in #4 it reveals what the piece is about ("Fleur Delacour smiled at Harry" -> romantic development will occur, as foretold).

Also notable is though the interpretation is different, the choice was always to focus on a specific shop / happening within Diagon Alley. Fortescue's, Merzifon's Curious Constructs, a show in the park, and the Scrying Seat. In every entry except #1 the POV enters the locale itself, and even in #1 we get a description of the inside of the shop.

There's probably other stuff I could say, but considering we have only four entries I'm not going to pretend that that kind of analysis would actually tell us anything more interesting. Onto specifics.

#1:
This was kind of the entry I was expecting, and it's in the same mold as #2. Couple of paragraphs of description, a few personal thoughts, and then moving on to why the POV character's there. Sort of a cut-out of a scene, in a way, where you can expand it in either direction with a bit of effort.

In this case this does feel like part of a larger fic. Something post-canon, which could be a oneshot that's fully lined up with canon or something longer that goes into a different direction. Or anything in between. With the focus on Fortescue's you could have Harry opening up a shop of his own, though what he'd sell hasn't been hinted at, just that Fortescue's important to him.

Beyond that, I'm not sure this piece actually hits the more melancholy mood it's going for, and with the more basic writing throughout I figure that maybe the more dramatic, poetic final line isn't properly supported. Maybe more theming with regards to sound throughout could have helped? I dunno.

Description's also kinda bare. In contrast to the second piece, we get one rather short thing per other building and then three bits about Fortescue's. Sometimes less is more but other times, to properly sell something you've gotta give it the space it needs and really make a location breathe to have it stick in the mind.

#2:
To put words to it, it almost feels like you've got these wide-angle shots panning over the contents of the store, with something swooping down from its perch, little setpieces dotting the store. Added to the sights, you also describe the smells and the sound, which the other entries don't feature in as much detail.

It's cool, don't get me wrong. It's just a marked contrast from the other entries.

My two main comments are this: for all that we have Ron being the nominal POV, we have no description of him acting on / being present for the scene. The narration proceeds deeper into the store but there's no description of Ron actually moving. He describes things but he seems to have no particular feeling about them one way or another, and they don't really react to his presence.

Also, Merfizon (not a bad name) seems mainly to speak directly to the reader, not to Ron. She almost seems to get swallowed up by the scene, actually. Her description is a single paragraph, her speaking is two more, and with it all being sandwiched between more description of the shop it's easy to lose track of her.

Both of these issues kind of detract a little bit. At some point, I figure it's better to focus on specific details that really stand out and leave the rest to simple throwaway mentions. That way, if anything should be important to the plot later you've already drawn sufficient attention to it.

But that also brings me to my next point: this could easily be part of a larger whole and feel coherent. I think this would serve decently as the opening of a chapter in a longer work, for instance.

#3:
Humour's hard to write, I've always felt. Much moreso than horror or romance, really. It requires a mastery of timing, wordplay, being naturally funny enough yourself, and all of that on top of already needing to be a writer with all the challenges involved: keeping characters consistent, keeping the story from being one-note, keeping everything from feeling hollow. It requires a deft hand, is what I'm saying.

I think your hand needs a bit more deftness, to be entirely honest. Hagrid is reduced to basically a mouthbreather who goes "yarp" (Hot Fuzz reference?) and goes haring off into the park with all the reckless abandon of Forrest Gump, smashing all in his path to get to the troll he wants to fraternize with.

I don't really think that's a portrayal that's accurate to canon, nor is it all that kind to the man, the myth, the legend that is Hagrid. Harry is similarly reduced to being a passive observer of Hagrid's shenanigans. The "blond troll owner" (former troll owner) is first hinted to be Lockhart, but then isn't because he's actually another reference entirely. The ending is normally where humour should hit its highest point but here it just kinda droops.

Summarizing, though, I didn't really "get it". Maybe it's me that's missing something, I dunno.

#4:
Nice use of the long dash. Niez used to always get on my case about those and it's nice to see that someone's listened to that advice, even if I never will.

One of the first bits of writing advice I received in middle school (which I promise isn't meant as an insult) is two tips: one, not everything should be its own paragraph, and two, try to limit the amount of paragraphs that begin with the same word in a row. Why? Because the former makes it harder to read, and the latter because it stands out and makes your writing feel rather samey. I'll offer up one example.

"He sighed, in for a penny in for a pound as they said. He sat down on a seat that faced nothing and the world around him shifted."

I think you could rewrite this in a bunch of ways. For instance, this is how I might have written that:

"In for a penny, in for a pound, as the saying went, he thought and held in a sigh. There were seats that faced nothing, and he'd just sat down on one of them when the world shifted around him."

This varies the pattern of your sentences, and it's one paragraph because they're two connected sentences about the same sort of thing. On the other hand, I'd keep the next sentence ("Suddenly he wasn't in the dusty shop anymore") on its own paragraph to make more of an impact, however minute.

You have more minor technical issues, which I think might be the result of having written this quickly for the deadline. Missing punctuation, most prominently. ("She ignored him"). You also have sentences joined up as one that might have been better off split into two ("Harry chuckled, he just got swindled.")

The same way I treated the other pieces as bits of a story that we're stepping into the middle of, I think there's something to this, though. You could have the makings of a classic Greek tragedy: Harry receives a truthtelling, tries to avoid the tragedy it foretells, and winds up causing the tragedy that he was trying to avoid. Or maybe you could have that spin out different ways - bitter, bittersweet, "what could have been", or just a sugary love comedy where Harry's attempts to win or keep Fleur's heart are portrayed comedically and she's fondly exasperated or something. Lot of ways to execute, really, even if you don't go with the truthtelling conceit.

What I'm saying is that there's something here, even if it needs a bit more polish.

 

Entry 1:
This entry has the most depth. You get a sense of melancholy throughout the entire section. It feels like a self contained snapshot of Diagon Alley after the war. This is great if this is what you are going for, but the beginning or ending would need to be changed if it was included in a larger scene (personally, I'd say change the beginning and have the chapter end with the last line).

As for specific improvements, it would be little things like:
Madam Malkins' had new fashions on display, robes in dazzling colors that reminded Harry faintly of Dumbledore.
Madam Malkins', in a tribute to Dumbledore, had robes of dazzling colors hanging on bearded mannequins in the windows.

The idea of touching up the parlour felt, in a word, oddly sacrilegious. or The idea of touching up the parlour felt oddly sacrilegious.

The dialogue could use some work as well, but that isn't what this prompt is for.

Entry 2:
This is mine and everything @BTT has said is spot on. I knew that I was lacking Ron's voice when posting this, but I ran out of time to modify it (as I wrote it last minute when I saw there was only a few entries). It is a good example that description isn't enough. You need your characters personality to shine through. Imo, it is what turns a story from meh, to potentially great.

It also made me realize that I need to be clearer on the prompts. I went into this thinking that we want to describe Diagon Alley within a larger story, not a very short story on its own. The point was to improve our writing on small details within the larger story. My bad.

Entry 3:
This is a hard one for me to review with the prompt. On one hand, it is different, with you describing something happening in Diagon Alley rather than a description of the alley (or a building within the alley) itself. On the other hand, there isn't much in the way of description but rather action. Harry is being carried, Harry is listening to a conversation he can't understand, etc. While there is some description, it feels more forced and in the background. No sense of magic, which you often get in Rowling's description writing.

Secondly, I think you need to write out some of the dialogue between the troll and Hagrid. It would work better if we caught a glimpse of actual words between the two. Right now, it feels a bit missing. I am not sure what happened with that argument, and why Hagrid was so upset. It is hard for me to imagine what follows this.

Entry 4:
First, The Scrying Seat is a great name for a shop. I also loved the scene change once he sat down. It felt quite magical. Overall, I do like the scene as it felt in-character for Harry and he had his personality shine through (though I disagree with him saying: "Plenty of orphans around". I would just drop it and have Harry snort.

However, like many of the entries, feels like it has a concrete ending. The final line is one that would end the story, not set a scene. If you left it with Fleur coming out of the store, the scene would be set for the next section. It could easily become a short story on a tragic romance, or a light comedy about Harry trying to win Fleur's attentions and ignore the predictions. I would also have padded on more descriptions of the shop and the shopkeeper (though I know you were at your word limit). Overall, quite good at setting the scene for a longer story.

 

Spoiler: Entry 1

Charming, somewhat nostalgic snippet, which I feel to be well done, although there's a few lines which read a little bit odd. Nothing egregious, or incorrect, from a grammatic point of view, but they do draw attention to themselves on a careful read, which I feel wasn't your intention. And seeing as I can't really comment on anything else due to the brevity of this competition, I might as well comment on this.

Charming, but clunky.

Suggestion: Ollivander had returned to his shop, and the window had been repaired, the stocks of wands had been replenished. Even the fine lines of dust were back on the shelves.

And then this and then that and then Niez became quite mad. Also the adverts peeling off the wall and the sticking charms beggining to fail convey exactly the same information, only one plants an image in your head and the other one doesn't.

Suggestion: The cheerful advertisements of strawberry or chocolate-and-raspberry ice cream (now 10% off!) were starting to peel from the walls, their colors fading, their edges turning inwards.

Alas, in the good old U of K, 'touching up' someone is grounds for a lawsuit (it's slang for sexual fondling). Also oddly sacrilegious is two words, not one. Also who is speaking to the reader right now?

Suggestion: The idea of fixing up the parlour felt oddly sacrilegious.

If you push up your glasses you bring them closer to your eyes, hence making it more difficult, rather than less, to rub them. Also you rub your eyes, not your eyelids, far as I know. Unless you have itchy eyelids but that's a different problem altogether and likely requires medical attention.

Suggestion: "Suppose so," Harry said, pushing down his glasses to rub his eyes. "Death Eaters aren't going to catch themselves, are they?"

Spoiler: Entry 2

Nice descriptive exercise, although I wouldn't call it setting the scene, per se, as it doesn't seem like it sets up anything at all. It's more like a literary panoramic view of a room, only in the movie in question the camera would then cut off to something completely unrelated and then the scene would get cut in the editor's room pre release. Time is precious, after all, particularly my own : ).

Then again, no notes on the actual writing bit, so brownie points for that.

Spoiler: Entry 3

Hagrid is a half-giant with a heart of gold, not a full retard with a couple extra chromosomes. 0/5 was not amused.

Spoiler: Entry 4

My dude write longer sentences. I know that its a bitesize competition, and perhaps you're drawing inspiration from the Three Muskeeters or what have you, but Alexandre Dumas was paid by the line, which is why he made his dialogues famously snippy. What excuse do you have?

You do understand the effect this has on the reader right? Making dialogue snippy is one thing, but when it applies to narration it can feel quite rushed.

Other bits and bobs:

You know, I was going to write something glib like 'Gee, thanks for clarifying why Harry doesn't believe in divination, we would have no clue otherwise', but in fact, what bothers me about this sentence is not the handsome em-dash (beatifully done) nor the uneccesary explanation, but the fact that Trelawney's track record is in fact, very much not laughable. 'Both my parents died and their killer was resurrected' kind of not laughable.

Hary/Fleur? On this day and age?