Faye (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
said_scarlett) wrote2004-10-06 07:16 pm
said_scarlett) wrote2004-10-06 07:16 pm
First Line Meme!
Because I am a sheep....
Take the first line of one of my stories (a good number of them are posted below) and write a drabble/ficlet of your own using it! Leave it in the comments or link to it in the comments.
I didn't list the first line of every fic I've ever written, mainly because it would take me too long to compile them all together. But I think this should be more than enough.
"And how does that make you *feel*, Severus?"
Christmas Eve had come again.
It was bloody freezing.
Draco Malfoy was bored.
Remus Lupin sat; idly picking at a stray thread that had worked it’s way out of the rather loosely woven sleeve of his robes.
Narcissa Malfoy observed her son across the breakfast table with a critical eye.
It’s funny, the things you remember from when you’re young.
Severus Snape glared at the collection of garments on the bed, arms crossed over his chest.
Sirius was having a very small, highly centered panic attack.
If anyone could turn tea making into a sultry art, it wasn’t Remus Lupin.
It had seemed like a brilliant idea at the time.
Draco sat patiently in Professor Snape's office, hands folded demurely in his lap.
Ron didn’t think there was anything wrong with him
“So….what do you and Snape do, anyway?”
Have you ever done something really, really stupid?
How had he come to this, he wondered, leaning casually against the chipped and fading street sign.
Did you ever notice how when you can't see the sun, you lose track of time real easily?
The war was long since passed, and those who were left were picking up the pieces.
"I could get anyone in bed, if I wanted to,” Sirius said, as and James sat on James’ bed doing homework.
Draco Malfoy wrapped his cloak carefully about him, making sure no hint of his clothing shown through.
Remus Lupin looked like shit.
Severus Snape's eyes came back into focus as he swung his head around to meet the rather insulted
eyes of Lucius Malfoy.
There is madness in the mind of a beast
To begin, I would like to say that I do not regret my decisions.
Severus Snape didn’t look up from his textbook, nor did anyone else at the table.
I know that behind my back they say that I am a sycophant, a puppet, a hand-shaker, a yes-man.
The sun was a brilliant comet of flame sinking below the granite capped mountains as Remus John Faolan Lupin, Order Member and werewolf, breasted the crest of a hill that overlooked Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
It was a rather lazy Saturday at Hogwarts, one of those warm spring afternoons that had everyone in a sleepy mood.
It was the sort of magic that was generally performed on a dark and stormy night.
Lucius Malfoy rubbed his finely manicured nails on the front of his silk robe, one eyebrow arched in boredom and agitation.
Remus Lupin had failed Auror training for a reason.
It started innocently enough, as these things often do.
The Baikal-Amur Mainline snaked its way across the icy surface of Siberia on it's way to Komsomolsk, one Bill Weasley staring out the window at the passing scenery, arm draped securely over the large bag he had with him.
"I think I ought to become a monk," Peter said suddenly, looking up from the book he had been reading.
It would be the trial of the century; covered by every major wizarding paper in the world, every wireless station, everything.
Ah, the life of a merry wanderer!
“There are precious few things worth loving in this world. You’re one of them.”
Take the first line of one of my stories (a good number of them are posted below) and write a drabble/ficlet of your own using it! Leave it in the comments or link to it in the comments.
I didn't list the first line of every fic I've ever written, mainly because it would take me too long to compile them all together. But I think this should be more than enough.
"And how does that make you *feel*, Severus?"
Christmas Eve had come again.
It was bloody freezing.
Draco Malfoy was bored.
Remus Lupin sat; idly picking at a stray thread that had worked it’s way out of the rather loosely woven sleeve of his robes.
Narcissa Malfoy observed her son across the breakfast table with a critical eye.
It’s funny, the things you remember from when you’re young.
Severus Snape glared at the collection of garments on the bed, arms crossed over his chest.
Sirius was having a very small, highly centered panic attack.
If anyone could turn tea making into a sultry art, it wasn’t Remus Lupin.
It had seemed like a brilliant idea at the time.
Draco sat patiently in Professor Snape's office, hands folded demurely in his lap.
Ron didn’t think there was anything wrong with him
“So….what do you and Snape do, anyway?”
Have you ever done something really, really stupid?
How had he come to this, he wondered, leaning casually against the chipped and fading street sign.
Did you ever notice how when you can't see the sun, you lose track of time real easily?
The war was long since passed, and those who were left were picking up the pieces.
"I could get anyone in bed, if I wanted to,” Sirius said, as and James sat on James’ bed doing homework.
Draco Malfoy wrapped his cloak carefully about him, making sure no hint of his clothing shown through.
Remus Lupin looked like shit.
Severus Snape's eyes came back into focus as he swung his head around to meet the rather insulted
eyes of Lucius Malfoy.
There is madness in the mind of a beast
To begin, I would like to say that I do not regret my decisions.
Severus Snape didn’t look up from his textbook, nor did anyone else at the table.
I know that behind my back they say that I am a sycophant, a puppet, a hand-shaker, a yes-man.
The sun was a brilliant comet of flame sinking below the granite capped mountains as Remus John Faolan Lupin, Order Member and werewolf, breasted the crest of a hill that overlooked Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
It was a rather lazy Saturday at Hogwarts, one of those warm spring afternoons that had everyone in a sleepy mood.
It was the sort of magic that was generally performed on a dark and stormy night.
Lucius Malfoy rubbed his finely manicured nails on the front of his silk robe, one eyebrow arched in boredom and agitation.
Remus Lupin had failed Auror training for a reason.
It started innocently enough, as these things often do.
The Baikal-Amur Mainline snaked its way across the icy surface of Siberia on it's way to Komsomolsk, one Bill Weasley staring out the window at the passing scenery, arm draped securely over the large bag he had with him.
"I think I ought to become a monk," Peter said suddenly, looking up from the book he had been reading.
It would be the trial of the century; covered by every major wizarding paper in the world, every wireless station, everything.
Ah, the life of a merry wanderer!
“There are precious few things worth loving in this world. You’re one of them.”
no subject
You don't remember the bad days, except for the very worst. You remember that heartsickening feeling when you disappointed your parents so thoroughly you knew it'd never be the same. You don't remember all the bleak grey days when you walked the halls and corridors of your house on quiet, desperate feet; you only remember when you were caught, and when you fell.
You don't remember the good days, except for the very best. You remember the wild elation that followed the arrival of your Hogwarts owl. You remember the even wilder joy when you realised you didn't have to be what they wanted. You don't remember the long-lasting peaceful glow of making new, true, real friends, who didn't care if you bowed to the proper depth or not.
But you always remember your parents. Even when they don't want to remember you.
no subject
no subject
Sirius/Remus. It sucks, so sue me.
Snow was falling, setting the world on mute, quieting even the sound of the wind through the dead trees. This fresh layer of virgin snow silently covered two sets of tracks, the smaller set tinged a light red from an accidental killing. These slowly fading pawprints led to a dilapidated wooden shack where two wretched canine-shaped figures sat huddled together, shivering in the cold. The larger one rested his head on the shoulder of the thinner, brown werewolf, doing his best to keep his lover warm and calm.
The morning brought to them the far-away sounds that were associated with Christmas, and a slightly cheerier outlook on life.
"Merry Christmas, Remus," Sirius whispered to the boy sitting next to him.
Remus gave Sirius a strange smile that looked misplaced and nodded. "Yeah...Merry Christmas, Sirius."
no subject