Music Club: Play Me A Prompt (Term XXIII Activity #02)

[flyingharmony.livejournal.com]

Activity: Play Me A Prompt
Points: 5 points per fic/art; maximum of 30 points.
Deadline: Thursday, May 31st @ 21:59 UTC (timezone converter).
Details: Comment with at most five song prompts (i.e. a title, line/s, or an entire song). Then, browse through the other comments and use these prompts to write fic or create art - Harry Potter related. (Fic should be at least 250 words long, art can be anything, just no doodles. Show that you put some effort in your work!) You will receive five points per fic/art you submit with a maximum of 30 points. starianprincess, recognise this activity? 5 bonus points to you, if you participate!

Note: I turned notifications off for this, so if there are any questions, comments, music notes etc don't hesitate to PM me! (Also, I won't be here until Sunday or Monday, so if it takes me some time to answer, that's why. I'll get back to it, though, I promise!)

Note #2: Since there will be no roster grace periods at the end of activities, double check if you're on it. :)

Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent. Victor Hugo recommends you to join the Club.

Comments

[pinksonia.livejournal.com]

I think if I had a child, I would take such care of her. Then I wouldn’t feel like one.

~The Beauty Is, Adam Guettel

[caitieness.livejournal.com]

i replied to your wrong prompt. oops.

you can't go back ;; luna ;; pg

It feels like I'm lost.

Or like I'm spinning uncontrollably -- like when I was a little girl and Momma grasped my hands in hers and spun me around her body. A whirlwind, a tornado. The wind of witches, she laughed over the sound of air rushing in my ears and my hair whipping against my face.

It was fun then -- a game we played. My face red and arms tired, I begged her to keep going. Now it makes me sick to my stomach and don't know how to make it stop. I can feel the tears welling in my eyes and I think I am much too young to feel like this.

I am much too young for all of this. For my time in that basement. For my time with the Carrows. For the invisible scars that reach beneath my skin and into my very bones. But mostly I am too young for the soft, crying voice in the other room. It feels like the world might drop out from underneath me at any moment. I'm not fit to be a mother when I never even knew mine.

But when I close my eyes, Momma grips my hands firmly in hers and smiles. My beautiful witch, she sighs. You haven't been a child in a long time. But I want to be, I tell her. She still smiles but I can tell it's a little sad. She wishes I was still her baby, too. But we both know you can't go back.


caitie//hufflepuff//256 words