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

[ansera.livejournal.com]

Slytherins, specifically Goyle and Pansy; stay hidden under the white cloth
A/N: headcannon is that all the snake-children knew each other pre-hogwarts, accept it, yes? xD

There was a promise in your words a very long time ago. When I was the child you would find under the dinner table (“Who are you? You’re not supposed to be here.”) and you were the girl who kept my secrets (“It’s my house, I can be wherever I want.”), you never let me down (“You start crying and I’ll meet you at the garden with all the chocolates I can get, okay?”).

You didn’t come to the garden, then – you went to the corner, ate most of them, and then came and gave me three chocolates. I didn’t mind. We found allies (“You like the cream pies the best too?” followed by a wildly goofy smile on a face like my own) and people so like us (“I’ve got a new dad, sucks.”) that we needed two tables to hold all of us under it after a while.

But we were the children of the lost; we were all we had.

But you? You went bad. We were all we had and we were crumbling, a stupid hat drawing lines and forcing us to do things we didn’t want to – and where were the days of pies and chocolates and white gowns flowing past us as we ran through crowded floors? Gone, as were you. These days will end in red and black (not unlike the sweet stains that would be smeared over our faces) and then, where will we be?

Gone, children of the lost with no table to hide under.

Mia/Slytherin/254