The Challenge
This month we're challenging you to finish what we've started! Take our opening paragraph and finish the story anyway you like - go from spooky to even more spooky, from spooky to humorous or even from spooky to badfic!

The Opening Paragraph:
The storm showed no sign of abating. The wind howled, blocking out all other sounds apart from the thunder, which rumbled and clapped. The dark clouds, lit up every so often by an abrupt flash of lightning, raced across the sky. The rain lashed down mercilessly, soaking everything and impairing vision. Suddenly the wind dropped, the rain eased and the thunder quietened. An eerie silence descended...


The Rules
Your G to PG-13 entries should be posted below. To post R to NC-17 entries follow this link. All entries must have the usual Title, Author/Artist/Poet, Rating, Warnings etc at the top of your post. (Please refer to the Artistic Forum rules if in doubt.)

The closing date is Sunday 29th October 2006.


To comment on G-PG-13 entries click here; for R-NC-17 entries click here.


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Finally, HAVE FUN!!

Title: "Of Trick-or-Treating, Sparklers & Chicken-Fried Steak"

Author: Sprout

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: A few minor swear words. Implied sex.

Pairings: None.

Disclaimers: None of these characters belong to me. Although I'd happily apply to be a 'host family' for any of them...

Comments: Sirius struggles to grasp the purpose behind quaint American Muggle Customs...and American cuisine.

*************************************

The storm showed no sign of abating. The wind howled, blocking out all other sounds apart from the thunder, which rumbled and clapped. The dark clouds, lit up every so often by an abrupt flash of lightning, raced across the sky. The rain lashed down mercilessly, soaking everything and impairing vision. Suddenly the wind dropped, the rain eased and the thunder quieted. An eerie silence descended...

Three young men made their way down a sodden street in Salem, Massachusetts. They were quite unlike your typical American Muggle male. This was because they were most definitely not American. In further fact, they were not even Muggle males. Their accents were British and, unlike most American males of that age, they were dressed in costumes and carrying trick-or-treat bags.

“Who the bloody hell’s idea was this insanity, anyway?” Sirius shouted as the storm descended upon them again.

“What?” James yelled back, trying to see his friends through the rain sluiced eye glasses he’d positioned over the eye holes of his ghost sheet costume.

“Nevermind!” Sirius shouted back, reaching out to steady himself as he slipped on the wet pavement.

“Are you okay, Sirius?” Remus shouted, raising his Jimmy Carter mask and coming to steady his friend.

“Ah, right! Now I remember whose idea this was!” Sirius scowled.

Remus rolled his eyes, “Do you mean to say,” he began, “that you are blaming me for this night of sodden adventure?”

“Adventure?” Sirius snorted, “Have you gone daft? This is suicide!”

“Will you two ladies kindly shut up?” James interrupted. “Look, Sirius,” James said, smiling indulgently, “You can turn around and go home if you want, no one’s making you stay.”

Sirius considered this for a few moments. He reached up and pulled the rubber devil mask back over his face. “Let’s get this over with!” he growled.

Remus laughed wildly in the storm, “Sirius, who was the one who wanted to come to the United States for the International Magical Exchange Program?”

“Well,” Sirius shouted through the mask, “I didn’t think we’d be doing anything this daft! I mean, there was a perfectly good reading going on tonight at the Starbuck’s back on campus!”

“Hell and damnation!” James swore loudly, yanking the white sheet off of his face so that it came to rest on the top of his head. “Have you never heard of the saying, ‘when in Rome’?”

“Problem is,” Sirius began sarcastically, “I don’t see any gladiators…or Romans, for that matter…slogging through this monsoon!” He ripped the rubber mask off his head and wiped freezing rain out of his eyes. “And, I’m quite sure,” he began fiercely, “that no self-respecting Roman citizen would walk through the streets clad in ghoulish attire, begging free candy from his fellow citizens!”

James turned to Remus, “Did I tell you?” he asked simply.

Remus shook his head, “Listen, Sirius. You can go back to the dorm if you want, but I’m not missing out on the opportunity for acquiring free chocolate…even if it isn’t Honeydukes! Plus, I think some of these American Muggle traditions are fun.”

“There was a particularly traditional little red headed American Witch back in the dorm that appeared to be quite a bit of fun,” Sirius scowled, "and I wouldn’t be freezing or up to my arse in this muck!”

Remus rolled his eyes, “Is that all you ever think of…sex?” he quipped.

“You should know!” Sirius snapped, glaring at his friend.

At that moment the storm redoubled its efforts at drowning them. The gutters began overflowing, and small pebbles of ice began stinging them in the face.

“Run for it!” shouted James, pointing to a small neon sign.

The threesome ran toward the light, taking care not to slip on the hailstones that were pelting them freely.

A small bell tinkled merrily over their heads as they entered the establishment. The smell of coffee and fresh apple pie greeted their nostrils.

“I could eat an elephant!” Remus remarked.

Sirius shrugged out of his wet coat and attempted to wring the icy rain out of his long hair. “Merlin’s Beard, Remus! Is that all you think about…food?” he mimicked.

James grabbed a handful of paper napkins off a nearby table and tried to dry his glasses, “Well, you have to admit, Americans do have some interesting cuisine.”

“Oh, purleeze,” Sirius sniped, “It’s either all swimming in grease or drowning in sauce. I’d as soon eat my…”

“Do try to control yourself,” Remus interrupted, “Some of us are hungry.”

The trio made their way to a booth near the rear of the diner. The black and white tiled floor sparkled cleanly, and the red accents on the stools at the counter looked cheerful against the dreariness outside.

A young waitress with a long, black ponytail approached their table. She smiled as she handed them each a plastic menu. “Can I get you anything to drink?” she asked kindly.

“I’ll have a Firewhiskey and a tall Pumpkin Juice, if you please,” Sirius requested.

“Err…” the waitress uttered, a quizzical look on her face. “Sorry, we don’t have a liquor license. And, um…the only juices I have on hand are tomato and orange.”

“Muggles,” Sirius muttered under his breath. “Ow! Hey! What the hell?”

James, who had kicked Sirius sharply under the table, smiled at the young lady, “Please excuse my friend; he’s just upset about the rain. We’ll all have coffee while we decide what to order.”

The waitress smiled fondly at James and turned, giving Sirius a somewhat skeptical look.

“Listen, Sirius,” James warned, “you’d better watch yourself. American Muggles are right nosey in nature, especially in this area. Don’t you remember what The Institute’s headmaster said the first night we arrived?”

Remus scanned his menu, “He’s right, Sirius. You need to let go of your snobbery,” he chided. “Say, this looks good: chicken fried steak with mashed potatoes and gravy. Includes tossed salad and dinner roll.”

James laughed, “Did you bring the antacid?”

“There’ll be plenty of time for watching what I eat once we return to London,” Remus replied calmly. “Until then, I intend to immerse myself in the culture that is these jumbled fifty states…or at least the Northeastern part of the country.”

“Chicken fried steak sounds more like the south to me. Although I must say, the cheeseburger and fries sound appealing,” James added. “Oy! They’ve got clam chowder!”

“I’d be happy with a simple Shepard’s Pie...” Sirius began. He turned to look behind him as the bell over the door tinkled and two girls walked in, one blonde the other brunette, laughing and trying to shake the rain out of their hair. “Or them…” Sirius added.

The waitress arrived with their coffee and plunked the steaming mugs down on the table in front of them. “Are you ready to order?” she asked, taking a pencil from behind her ear and a pad from the pocket of her apron.

“I’ll have the chicken fried steak,” Remus began, “Bleu cheese dressing on the salad.” He handed his menu to the waitress.

“And I’ll have the cheeseburger, medium well, fries, and a large bowl of Clam Chowder,” James added, handing the menu to the waitress.

“What’ll it be for you?” the waitress asked, looking at Sirius, who sat soaked and slumped over his steaming mug of coffee.

Sirius snorted into his mug, “Just bring me the first item on the list,” he growled.

The waitress repeated the order to the trio, rolled her eyes at Sirius, and retreated to the kitchen to place the order with the cook.

A giggling noise erupted from the opposite end of the diner and James turned and brandished his steaming mug at the two girls, “Cheers!” he said jauntily.

The two girls waved back, giggled, and put their heads together as they began to whisper furiously back and forth.

“Females,” Sirius sputtered at the table top.

“Would you lighten up?” Remus asked, poking Sirius in the side with his elbow.

Sirius yelped as hot coffee spilled down his front, “You idiot! This is my best Egyptian Cotton shirt!”

James rolled his eyes, “I’ll put it right once we get back to the dormitory,” he promised. “Seriously, though, why not lighten up and have some fun? That’s what this night in American culture is all about, isn’t it? I mean, the headmaster said muggles roam the streets begging free candy and playing pranks on unsuspecting people.”

“Yeah, and they also hung witches on this town’s square several hundred years ago,” Sirius reminded them. “What do you think they’d do to us if we were to show them a real prank or two?”

Remus laughed, “Well, I don’t know…some of the stuff we used to do to Snape was pretty funny. But, yeah, I see your point. I’m not sure they could handle the full wrath of The Marauders.”

James finished his coffee and set the empty mug down with a hollow whack. “Well, I say we eat and then get back out there and enjoy the fun of Halloween in America!” he exclaimed.

“Sounds good to me,” Remus seconded. “And,” he continued, “If we’re back at the dorms by nine, we’ll be back in time to go to the common room and watch Muggle horror movies with the ladies.”

Sirius seemed to brighten a bit at the mention of ladies. “Yeah, that little redhead ought to be off work by then,” he reckoned. “Probably wouldn’t take much to convince her I need some warming up…”

“She’s already warm for your form, buddy,” James teased. “All you have to do is look at her and she’s spellbound.”

“Here you go, gentlemen,” the waitress interrupted. She sat the burger and soup in front of James, and the chicken fried steak in front of Remus.

As she stepped away from the table, the short order cook approached, an oversized tray in his hands. James burst into loud laughter and Remus struggled to surpress his laughter in his napkin.

“Hell’s Bell’s!” James exclaimed.

Sirius looked up from his mug of coffee and his jaw dropped, “What the bloody hell is that?”

“Super Saucy Baby Back Rib Platter, complete with slaw, fries and a skewer of marinated mushrooms,” the cook intoned, thumping his ‘masterpiece’ onto the table proudly. He reached quickly into his pocket for a lighter, bent over, and lit the sparklers sticking out of the rack of ribs.

“What the hell?” Sirius exclaimed, dumbfounded, as the cook retreated back to his lair.

James was howling, slapping his hand on the table top. Remus was snorting into his napkin, tears streaming down his face.

“I’m supposed to eat this?” Sirius asked incredulously as the sparklers burned themselves out.

“You said you wanted the first item on the list,” Remus reminded him, wiping his eyes and picking up his fork and knife.

“Bloody Americans…I didn’t realize half a cow was the first item on the menu,” Sirius groused.

James smiled, his eyes sparkling mischievously, “Cheer up, chap!” he quipped, “At least now you’ll have energy for trick-or-treating, and plenty left over for that red head when you decide to ‘warm up’,” he teased.

The trio tucked into their meals while the storm raged outside. Remus exclaimed several times over his order which, he said, tasted like steak, not chicken. James ordered a second bowl of chowder. Soon they realized that Sirius had grown silent. They turned to look at him.

Sirius sat, sauce smeared on his face, hands, and Egyptian Cotton T-Shirt, hungrily devouring the ribs. He dug into the coleslaw and shoved several fries into his mouth. He chewed with relish and swallowed, shoving more food hastily into his mouth.

“For the love of Merlin, Sirius!” Remus said, voice tainted half with admiration, half with disgust, “I thought you hated American food?”

Sirius chewed and swallowed, reaching for his glass of water. He took a long drink and smiled, reaching for his napkin to dry his upper lip. “Well, this is quite good. Say, can you flag that waitress over here? I need a moist towlette and some ketchup for my fries. Plus, I’d like some of that apple pie!”

When Sirius had used half of Remus’ dinner roll to mop up all the barbeque sauce, he let out a long, loud belch. “Ah!” he exclaimed. He crumpled his napkin and dropped it onto the sparkling clean platter. He reached for his pie and glanced at the still half-full plates of his friends. “Will you two kindly hurry up? I want to get out there and get candy while people still have their porch lights on!”

James and Remus glanced knowingly at each other. Sirius often tried to act snobbish when it came to cultural amusements, but it looked like his snobbery had been mastered by a bout with American barbeque sauce.

Title: The Softer Side of Evil (can we say bad fic??)
Author: Spello
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Pairings: none
Disclaimers: I don't own them, I just love them.

The storm showed no sign of abating. The wind howled, blocking out all other sounds apart from the thunder, which rumbled and clapped. The dark clouds, lit up every so often by an abrupt flash of lightning, raced across the sky. The rain lashed down mercilessly, soaking everything and impairing vision. Suddenly the wind dropped, the rain eased and the thunder quietened. An eerie silence descended...

Oh, for the love of me! Fi-nally! Voldemort thought as he tried to blink the boredom from his eyes.
“Well, there you have it. The storm has cleared enough for my beloved minions to be on their wicked ways.” Voldemort was already to the door, trying to usher the motley crew out. To his amazement, however, no one had moved and they were starring at him with confusion plastered on their faces. Ugghhh. Why is it so hard to find smart evil-doers?!? “Hem-hem…minions. That’s you! This has all been blah-blah-blah and all, but I must call it an evening. Now, up and out you go. That’s it, that’s it.” Slowly the group gathered their things and headed towards the door.

“I don’t get it,” uttered Crabbe (or was it Goyle?) “Isn’t this poker night?”
“Yah,” answered, um, the other one.
“But we haven’t played yet.”
The other just grunted and pushed the other one forward.

“Thanks for bringing the firewhiskey, Lucius. I wouldn’t have lasted the evening without it, trust me,” Voldemort said with an eyeroll. “Everyone, I apologize for ending the night early… but I have plenty o’ evil to plan and such. It isn’t easy being me, I tell you! Next time we’ll skip the exploding snap games and just play poker, ok, Crabbe, Goyle? Alright, now, out you go…that’s it. No, sorry, Bella, you too. Thanks again, ok, ba-bye.”

Voldemort pushed the last minion out and quickly closed the door. Leaning on it, he gave a big sigh of relief. Oh, what hangers-on! But I guess it’s the price I must pay. Voldemort quickly slid out of the room.


Outside….Bella snuggled her cloak around her neck as they headed down the road to the darkened park.
“What was that about?” she asked Malfoy.
“I don’t know. He was strange all night. He didn’t even flinch when Crabbe beat him at Snap. Did you notice? He is definitely preoccupied. You now how he can be though when evil is on his mind. Can’t wait to hear what he has planned.”
“Perhaps we should linger a bit until the others have gone. Then we can go back and find out what the Dark Lord wants.”
“Oh, give it up, Bella. He is not going to make you his “queen”!” mimicked Malfoy.
Sparks flew from beneath Bella’s cloak as she glared at Malfoy.
“You idiot! Don’t you remember what happened the last time we hesitated to check on the Dark Lord???”
Malfoy’s smirk quickly left his face as he muttered something under his breath.
“What? Hmmm? Uhh, yes, that’s right! A boy named Harry Potter happened!” Bella all but shouted. “We’ll wait here for a few moments, and then head back.” Bella pulled her cloak tighter and turned to watch the others disappear. Noticing the two great lumps known as Crabbe and Goyle in the dark, she asked “What takes those two oafs so long?”


Voldemort was hurriedly moving about flicking his wand this way and that. Oh, it’s almost time! I’ve been waiting all year for this! He had changed from his “look-how-evil-I-am” robes to comfortable sweats, complete with woolly socks he had knitted himself. He settled down on his couch, waved his wand to dim the lights, and accio’d a huge bowl of popcorn from the kitchen. With another flick of his wand, the full length dark draperies that covered the wall in front of him disappeared to reveal a novel muggle invention---the television.
Could you imagine the look on my minions faces if they new the great Dark Lord, hater of all things muggle, were indulging himself so? Especially that Bella! Whew—she’s an evil one. I’ll give her that. Oh, what am I doing! It’s time!
Using the remote, he powered on the t.v. and tuned it to ABC. Ahh, finally. I do hope it is as good as the Christmas one….maybe they’ll even do that dance they do.

“Now, for our featured presentation, It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown,” said the voice in the television.

Voldemort slumped down in the pillows on the couch and munched on his freshly popped corn.


Bella tired of waiting for the oafs to figure out disapparating and quickly waved her wand at them. *crack* They were gone.
“Where did you send them?” asked Malfoy.
Bella only shrugged. “Come on, let’s go.”
The two quietly headed back towards the eerie house at the top of the hill.


“Oh, man….that Linus! Isn’t he the cutest ever, with that blanket and all the thumb-sucking?”
*gasp*
Voldemort bolted from his seat. “Did I say that out loud?” Voldemort quickly regained his composure, however, and settled back on to the couch. “Salright…nobody’s here…cool it Voldy.” *whew*


Bella and Malfoy decided to check on the Lord through the window before daring to knock. They moved to the side of the darkened house as they noticed a strange blue glow emanating from that window. Malfoy had to give a not-so-easy budge up to Bella so she could peer through the curtains.
“What’s going on? What do you see?” grunted the strained Malfoy.
“Shhh…I don’t know. I hear voices, but he’s sitting on the couch, so I can’t see who he is talking to. And that light…it lights the whole room, but his head is in the way!” Bella tried to stretch herself higher.
“Oh, down in front!” she whispered.


Voldemort snorted and nearly shot drink out of his nose. He cackled with mad laughter at the screen. “Charlie Brown got a rock!” Bwwwahhahahahahhhhahahahah---sucks air-----whahbwauahahahaehhahaahahaaa!


Suddenly, a vile sound, the like of which neither Bella nor Malfoy ever heard, filled the air. It was quite shrill and very sickening, to say the least. It seemed to make the ground beneath them quiver. Malfoy could no longer take it, and he dropped Bella to cover his ears.
“What is it?” he cried.
The look on Bella’s face was pure horror. She was much paler than normal and her eyes were huge vacant holes.
“I think,” she gulped, “he’s, he's...laughing.” Bella clutched at her heart as sweat beaded up on her brow.

*gasp* "Noooooooooooo!" choked Malfoy.

Title: The Ring
Author: Sboof
Rating: pg-13
Warnings: use of terms: Bollocks and bloody hell
Pairings: none
Disclaimers: I don't own them, I just love them.
Author's note: I have Potterized an old ghost story which used the lines "where is my money, who's got my money, who who?" I still believe, however, that the tale is quite orginal save for use of that line. If anyone has a problem however, please talk to me. Thanks to my fabbity beta....I heart u!!!

The storm showed no sign of abating. The wind howled, blocking out all other sounds apart from the thunder, which rumbled and clapped. The dark clouds, lit up every so often by an abrupt flash of lightning, raced across the sky. The rain lashed down mercilessly, soaking everything and impairing vision. Suddenly the wind dropped, the rain eased and the thunder quieted. An eerie silence descended upon the dark grave yard. The leaves which had been whirling as though trapped in a twister gently floated down and landed at his feet, though he did not notice. His eyes, as though hypnotized, stood fixed upon the name on the tomb: Tom Riddle.

Tearless, he continued to gaze until the cawing of a raven started him from his reverie. He looked to the tree branch above, and saw the ebony black bird staring back at him. As soon as their eyes met, the raven cried in fear and flew away; almost as if the creature knew what the 17 year old man was capable of…who he would become.

Young Tom Riddle’s cold, dark, eyes returned to his father’s grave stone. He had returned to where the town had put is father to rest nearly 2 nights earlier. The ceremony had been well attended by upper-class Muggles. Tom had watched from a distance, looking on with disdain at the filth who were crying over his recently departed father. ‘Natural causes’ the obituary had said of Tom Riddle Sr. Tom sneered at the thought of how the Muggles, unable to find an actual cause, simply dismissed the death as “a natural one”. If only they knew, Tom had thought as he felt the rain begin to fall.

Remembering once again the obituary, Tom couldn’t help but laugh aloud as he knelt down on the soft earth below his feet. Unfortunately it was not to pay respects; rather it was to swear vengeance upon his father for the hell he had put his wife and Tom through when Tom Riddle Sr. had abandoned them.

Unconsciously he rubbed the object on his right ring finger with his left hand. As his fingers glided easily over the perfectly round, orb like, blood red opal stone of his father’s 18 karat gold ring, young Mr. Riddle spoke, “Tom Riddle…” he could not bear to call him father, “…Though I share your name, a most unfortunate thing I might add, may you know that you were never a father to me!”

With an intensity not unlike a prize fighter in the ring about to knock out his opponent, Tom ripped the ring off his finger and held it at arms length toward the tomb stone as though it had eyes. “See this old man! I took your most prize possession; the ring that you found in a pawn shop in East London. Little did you know you fool the true power that your ring possessed!” The ring glistened ominously in the moonlight. Putting the ring back on, Tom continued, “My power Mr. Riddle has become increasingly strong over the past few years; so strong that even you, a prominent man in the despicable Muggle world, would fear me! And it is with this ring that I shall one day rule all the Wizarding world!”

The hoot of an owl was heard. Tom, who had paused for dramatic effect, quickly turned behind him and stood face to face with the night creature, who had taken a perch on the tombstone behind him. “Avada Kedavra!” Young Riddle shouted, pointing not his wand, but the jeweled orb on his finger in the direction of the owl. Within seconds, the owl had hooted its last hoot, and laid dead at the base of its perch. With awe Tom raised his ringed finger to the sky, allowing the blood red orb to shine. A moment of heat passed through the ring, then went away as soon as it had come. Curious.

Looking at the ring with admiration, Tom once again addressed his father, “Yes Mr. Riddle, you had no idea what power you possessed the day you bought this ring. You, being the typical Muggle admired it for its beauty; never understanding that the ring you wore actually belonged to Maximus Levidicus one of the greatest wizards ever to live…that is until me!”

With his final words, as if on cue, the wind began to pick up blowing the dark, nearly jet black, hair of young Tom Riddle over his eyes. Brushing the hair to one side, Tom turned back toward the grave, and was opening his mouth to address his father once again when suddenly he heard something on the wind brushing by.

“The ring…my precious…MY RING!”

In one fluid movement Tom grabbed his wand from beneath his robes and turned around looking in all directions, desperately trying to find the person who had whispered the ominous words. A whistling came across the breeze again. Fear seized Tom. “Lumos!” Wildly waving the light streaming from the tip of his wand around, Tom found nothing. The whistling came again, and this time he heard a muffled bang from above.

Quickly, the normally calm, fearless, Tom Riddle moved his wand above his head. As the light from the wand illuminated the darkness above him, Tom saw the culprit of the sound. Breathing a sigh of relief, Tom said a spell, causing the object that had nearly scared him to death to fall from its hanging spot.

With a thud, the object hit a nearby tombstone and then landed on the soft grass. Walking over with purpose in his stride, Tom stooped down and picked up the “scary” object. Laughing aloud Tom said, “Nothing more than a child’s make-shift wind chime.” Tom studied the piece cylindrical wood for a moment. He ran his fingers over the holes, then held the object up into the path of the wind. An eerie musical sound came out of the tiny holes. “Tom Riddle, you are a foolish man. Allowing yourself to be scared by a stupid Muggle toy,” and with that Tom through the wind chime across the graveyard where it landed in a patch of wild flowers.

Again the wind picked up. Tom raised the collar of his robe, and began to head back toward Hogwarts. As he passed Tom Riddle Sr.’s grave he said, “Until next year old man.” With that Tom dissapparated to Hogsmeade.

(Later that night)

After spending some time in the 3 Broomsticks pub, Tom began to wander back to Hogwarts alone. Looking down at his ring, he rubbed the stone with his left hand. Though Tom would never admit to it, whenever he touched the ring like that, a calming sensation would pass through his body.

As he hit a darkened strip of street, the wind picked up, and again the temperature of the ring began to rise. Looking down at the ring, he saw the red orb faintly glow, only to cease a second later. Suddenly he heard it the voice on the wind calling to him.

“The ring…my precious…my ring. Who has my ring? Who?” the voice whispered on the wind.

Tom stopped for a moment, and was about to grab his wand when the events of earlier at the graveyard returned to his mind. What foolishness this is! He began to walk again, taking care to pick up his gait a bit. As he rounded the corner, again he heard the voice. “The ring…my precious…MY RING! Who has the ring? My ring? Who? Who?” Tom froze. The voice had been louder this time. The hair on his arms and neck stood straight up. The rings mild heat began to raise in temperature. The red opal faintly glowed. This time both the heat and the glow stayed.

Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, Tom slowly reached for his wand. “Avada Kedavra!” he whispered loudly as he whipped around facing the path where he had just come from. But his Unforgivable Curse hit nothing more than a tree.

Suddenly he heard a rustling of the bushes down at the other end of the street, not more than twenty feet away…or so he thought. By now, Tom’s sense of what was real and what was not was quickly fading. Though he was sweating, and his instincts told him to turn and run, Tom Riddle had his pride and he instead squinted into the darkness. At the very end of the street he saw a hovering white, transparent orb. Sensing that whatever power laid within the orb was potentially far greater than his own, Tom turned and ran all the way back to Hogwarts, not resting until he had entered the Slytherin common room.


Tom sat in the arm chair, watching the dancing fire cast shadows on his legs and the objects around him. He had not moved since he had entered the common room nearly an hour earlier. The replica of Big Ben chimed 10pm. Tom barely registered the clock chimes, as his mind was filled with thoughts on what he had seen and heard earlier. Relax. You are Tom Riddle…the greatest wizard in the world! You have nothing to fear. Tom continued probing deeper into his psyche, desperate to find the answer to his sudden lack of reason. Perhaps murdering your father, and successfully dodging the law is causing you to be unsure of yourself…BOLLOCKS…YOU unsure, feeble…like the pathetic wizards and witches around you??? NEVER!

Easing his mind for the moment, Tom stretched and shut his eyes. Since it was a mid-term holiday, he knew that no one would disturb him since most of the Slytherins had returned home for the weekend. Having no home to return to, Tom had stayed at Hogwarts.

Just as he was about to venture into dreamland, he heard a banging behind him. Wand at the ready, for he had been holding it tightly in his grip since he had returned to the common room, he jumped and turned around. Looking up he saw that a window had become un-latched, and the wind of the night was causing it to open and close making a loud racket. Saying a couple explicative words, Tom pointed his wand and re-latched the window. “Merlin Tom, pull yourself together man.”

The ring’s temperature grew very warm, almost uncomfortably so. “Bloody hell!” Tom said aloud as he looked at the red opal which was glowing now even brighter. Suddenly the window on the other side of the room banged open. Jumping, Tom turned and pointed his wand at the window; but just as he was about to re-latch it he heard, “Where is my ring, who’s got my ring? Who? Who?” The voice was louder now, and though it was coming from outside a chill ran down Tom’s spine. The fire began to flare and flicker and crackle and pop. Quickly Tom re-latched the window.

Normally Tom was not a religious man, but at that moment he dropped to his knees in front of the fire. “Oh great Merlin, and any other great wizard god out there for that matter, please help protect me from the evil that haunts my living soul,” Tom pleaded quickly, barely whispering.

His eyes returned to the window, and saw something glide by. His eyes grew wide. “It was nothing, it was nothing…” He repeated to himself. “Where is my ring? Who’s got my ring? Who? Who?” The voice was much louder, and it was obvious that whatever spirit was calling to its ring was right outside the window.

Tom froze to his spot. By now the hair all over his body was standing on end. He could hear the spirit pounding on the window, desperate to enter the common room. Quickly Tom, the great wizard, scrambled behind the tall arm chair by the fire attempting to hide. Wanting to block out the vision of evil, he shut his eyes and grabbed his wand tightly.

And the fire flared and flickered and cracked and popped. “Oh Merlin, Merlin!” he cried in a whisper. The temperature of the ring increased. Opening his eyes, he looked down at the ring. The opal was burning so bright Tom had to squint in order see it.

BANG! The window flew open. “OH please someone help… help!” Tom cried closing his eyes again. “Where is my ring…my precious!!! Who has my precious!! Who… who!!” The booming voice filled the common room. And the fire flared and flickered and crackled and popped. The flames grew bigger and danced wildly, its shadows flashing madly against the floor and walls around Tom. It was as if the devil himself had entered the room, and the fire was showing a tribute. Though the fire was blazing, the room quickly turned to a freezing temperature.

“Oh Merlin! Merlin!” screamed Tom as the ring burned his flesh more, and the opal’s light intensified. He tried desperately to remove ring from his finger, to no avail. It was too late the ring had burned into his flesh.

“My precious!!! Where is my precious!” the voice screamed.

“I’m sorry. Please oh great spirit forgive me!!” Tom cried, tears beginning to stream down his face. “Who has my precious?....” the voice was now all around him. Tom had no idea where it was coming from; it was all encompassing. And the fire flared and flickered and popped and snapped, its devil dance growing wilder by the second. By now the ring was excruciatingly painful causing Tom to cry out in pain. Reaching for his wand he tried a cooling spell, but it only ricocheted off the ring.

“Oh spirit I’m sorry!!!” he yelled again eyes closed, turning his head away from the ring, his hand tightly outstretched. “Merliiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnn!!!!” he screamed.

And the fire flared and flickered and crackled and popped. By now the voice was so loud it was deafening. “Where is my ring, my precious??? Who’s got my precious?!” Behind the arm chair, Tom was crouched so tightly into a ball that the ghosts of Hogwarts could have bowled with him.

Suddenly he felt the temperature drop another ten degrees. The fire was crackling and snapping so much that bits of flame would pop out of the hearth and freeze mid-air. Tom knew that his fate was upon him. The booming voice lashed out again, “MY PRECIOUS!!!” it screamed, “WHO’S GOT MY PRECIOUS!!! WHO? WHO?"

Suddenly Tom sensed what felt like ice cold fingers touch his face.

“IT WAS YOU!”

Title: Potions, Puppies, and Little Fuffy Bunnies
Penname: Dora 'n' Dragon
Rating: PG for Safe Snarking
Pairings: A puppy and a bunny
Genre: Humorus
Warnings: a future sugar high for the characters. None for the readers, though.
Author’s Notes: This started with a post I was writing in a RPG that I (Dora) am in where I play Snape. Dragon was on MSN with me when I was writing it, and we were giggling at the idea that is the beginning of this fic. She suggested it as a fic for the challenge, and I thought it would work, so I started writing it. I got stuck on it at one point, and Dragon and I got to talking about it on MSN again, and between the two of us, this fic came to life. Then logging on to see that Moon has done the post about the poll, but the deadline is Sunday, so here it is, as the poll's not up yet anyhow! Dora wants to thank Moon for that mini heart attack (with love though :D)
Constructive Criticism?: Sure!
Disclaimer: Harry's friends do not belong to either of us. We're just giving Snape good memories here. That is all.

---

The storm showed no sign of abating. The wind howled, blocking out all other sounds apart from the thunder, which rumbled and clapped. The dark clouds, lit up every so often by an abrupt flash of lightning, raced across the sky. The rain lashed down mercilessly, soaking everything and impairing vision. Suddenly the wind dropped, the rain eased and the thunder quietened. An eerie silence descended in the empty room, interrupted only when a door opened and its sole inhabitant entered. Momentarily, echoes of children’s laughter penetrated the solitude, but were silenced with the closing of the door. Severus walked to the window, and let the curtains fall across the window, blocking out any view of the occasional blinding flashes of light that continued outside. It had been a long day and he needed to relax. He headed to the tall coat rack in the corner that held his old-fashioned nightgown and cap, and quickly exchanged his trademark black robes for his green nightgown that had silver snakes embroidered on it so that they looked like stripes from a distance. He picked up the candle holder next to his bed and headed out into his sitting room, where there was a nice fire going.

Severus set the candlestick down and chose a large book from the bookshelf, placing it next to the comfy chair by the fire. He then retrieved his mug, filling it with hot water and making tea instantly with a simple spell. He sat down in the over stuffed chair and opened the potions book. Severus slowly relaxed as he sipped his tea and read the book, firelight glinting off the emerald eyes of his fluffy silver bunny slippers.

Once finished with his tea, Severus put his book back and started to grade the First Year’s essays. Reading the remarks he put on the essays, one would never know that they were graded when he was at the moment when he was most relaxed. Severus would have argued that he could have used a stiff drink every time he graded essays from the First Years; their writing skills were so atrocious. But unfortunately, Severus needed to remain sober, in case the dark mark burned.

With a sigh of relief, Severus at last put down the final essay. As he picked up his candlestick to go to bed, he heard a scratching at his door. Wondering what it could be, he cautiously opened it only to discover a large black dog in the Dungeon Hall.

“What do you want?” Severus snapped at the dog, which only cocked its head to one side and perked its ears a bit. “Shoo!”

Instead of leaving, the dog just stood up and pushed its way past Severus and into his rooms. Upset at this turn of events, Severus slammed his door shut. He turned to face the dog, but the dog wasn’t there. Instead, there was a tall, dark haired man.

“So. You’re back.” Severus said to the other man, who snorted, “Looks like the years have not been too kind to you, Black.”

Sirius snorted again. “I could say the same thing to you. What is that you’re wearing? It looks like you stole it from your grandmother.”

It was Severus’ turn to snort. “If you really want to know, it was a gift from Albus. I’m not one to waste gifts.”

“So if I get you some matching snake or bunny socks for Christmas, you’ll wear those too?” Sirius asked, smirking.

“Ever the cocky Gryffindor, I see.” Severus replied with a sneer and a snort.

Sirius grinned and started looking around the room.

“What is it, Black?” Severus demanded.

Sirius returned to his doggy form and started sniffing around the room, eventually changing back into human form after what seemed like a fruitless search.

“No candy, Snivillus?” Sirius asked, giving Severus puppy eyes.

“And why would I have that sugar filled nonsense in my rooms?” Severus retorted.

“Because it’s Halloween, and you’re supposed to. For Trick or Treaters.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Black, I don’t get Trick or Treaters here.”

“But of course you do! I’m here!” Sirius broke out into a grin. “Maybe we should go Trick or Treating ourselves!”

“Don’t be idiotic Black. It’s a stupid Muggle Children’s tradition; there is no way I will take part in it. Ever.” Severus stated bluntly, though Sirius was not listening, and was already reaching for his wand. “Black, what are you doing?”

Sirius looked up. He waved his wand and a pair of bunny ears appeared on Snape’s head. A mischievous grin crossed Sirius’ face and he waved his wand again, this time a fluffy white tail appeared on Severus’ backside, while his large, hooked nose shrunk down into a cute bunny nose. A few waves later, and Sirius was wearing a pair of puppy ears and a wagging tail of his own.

“Black!” Severus practically yelled.

Sirius just let out a burst of bark-like laughter, and with two more waves of his wand, both he and Severus were the size of an average seven year old. Sirius grabbed the horrified Severus’ arm, and dragged him to the fireplace where he threw in some floo powder, yelling out “12 Grimmald Place”. He shoved the protesting Severus into the green fire before following himself.

Once at his childhood home, Sirius pulled Severus out the front door, accioing a couple pillowcases on his way. It was a perfect night in London. He hauled Severus next door, where he energetically rang the doorbell. He glanced over at Severus, who was scowling, and poked him in the side.

“Smile and wiggle your nose Snivillus!” he hissed.

When a lady answered the door, Sirius gave a very real sounding “Woof! Woof!”

The lady laughed, and cooed over how adorable they were, giving them large candy bars to put in their 'bags’. Satisfied with the loot, Sirius pulled Severus back into the street, where they came across a group of Muggle children. There were ghosts, skeletons, and even a witch or two – Severus scowled at them all. They all reached the next house at the same time, and Sirius once again poked Severus into smiling and barked again.

The Muggle children went the other way, so Sirius and Severus were alone on the way to the next house.

"They got it completely wrong.” Severus grouched, “Ghosts look nothing like that, and as for those so-called wizards...”

Sirius threw him a stern puppy look, and once again poked him after knocking on the door. Two more realistic barks and a handful of candy later, they were on to the next house. After a while, they had hit all the houses in that square, and were heading to the next section of town. Sirius noticed that with each house, he had to poke Severus less and less. He grinned to himself, and ran in an excited circle at the next house.

Severus slowly relaxed, and even realized that he was starting to enjoy himself. There were plenty of Muggle children out and about, and it wasn’t like anyone could recognize him or know who he was.

Finally, after several enlarging charms, the pillowcases were entirely full, and Sirius gave a contented sigh. He turned toward Severus, who looked utterly exhausted. Happily swinging his pillowcase full of goodies, Sirius started leading the way back to his childhood home. Severus, a bit more reserved, hefted his own pillowcase on his shoulder and walked behind Sirius, with a small smile on his face.