stgulik: default icon (keep calm make coffee)
If you didn't get a chance to read the 2015 [livejournal.com profile] hp_halloween entries, I really encourage you to do so. I just love HP Halloween. This year's 200-word drabble entries were by turns funny, angsty, and downright scary. Sometimes you wouldn't know what to expect of an entry until you were already like 150 words in and you would have a sinking feeling your favorite character was about to have a really bad time of it. Altogether, excellent stuff.

This year, my assignment was to write a drabble for [livejournal.com profile] shadowycat; meanwhile, she was assigned to me! Her drabble to me, Alone, was wonderfully poignant and sad. Please go read it and give the author some love.

And here is the drabble I wrote, using the prompts ritual and candles:

Happy belated Halloween )
stgulik: default icon (My Dear Lupin)
A few days ago, the incomparable [livejournal.com profile] iulia_linnea offered to write HP drabbles for anyone who prompted her. I was very excited today to see the one she wrote for me! It features my OTP, a rarepair that has no business being so rare, dammit. I mean, what's that about? They're perfect for one another. Anyway, go and read this seriously sexy thing: No Real Rhyme or Reason. (Also on AO3)
stgulik: default icon (snupin funny mine)
I wrote a 400-word drabble for the [livejournal.com profile] snupin_santa community in response to a prompt by [livejournal.com profile] azure_rosa. It was just posted today, so I finally get to share.

Title: The Spy's Contact
Author: stgulik
Rating: PG
Warning: Swearing
Era: Set during either the first or second war.
Author Note: Thanks to [livejournal.com profile] teddyradiator for all the nudges, and thanks to the mods for another great season of Snupin Santa!

-o0o-

-CRACK-

Remus’ ears rang from the press of Apparition. Wand out, he scanned the shadows behind a row of darkened cottages outside Tutshill. It was getting harder to find off-the-beaten-track places to receive information for the Order.

There came a voice—no, a growl. “You’re late.”

“Happy Christmas, yourself,” he replied.

Severus Snape’s wand held steady. “Where did Remus Lupin lose his virginity?”

Remus chuffed a cynical laugh. “It’s a nostalgic time of year, isn’t it?”

“Answer.”

“Behind Greenhouse Three, sixth year. On my birthday.”

Snape lowered his wand. “What a memorable party that must have been.”

“You would know.”

-o0o-

The scents of the holiday: yeast bread, yule logs, cinnamon, snow. From the street beyond their hiding place came the boisterous chatter of happy families walking home from church.

Snape pulled parchment from an inner pocket. “The Lestranges plan to be in Lower Bluth Thursday. The Pinochet estate. The old man is an agitator. He and his grandchildren are to be made examples.” The parchment enlarged into a map. “The house is Unplottable, but it is outside the village. Post sentries where marked and you’ll be in the right vicinity.”

“Thank you.” Remus pocketed the map and took a breath.

-o0o-

“Tomorrow is Christmas,” he began, despising his hackneyed opening line. “Where will you go?”

Silence. Both of them knew what was coming. Snape never made this part easy, no matter how many times the offer came. “Not to Grimmauld Place, surely,” continued Remus with forced joviality, “although Molly would welcome the chance to fatten you up.”

“I’ll return to school,” replied Snape almost reluctantly, “to rest and replenish my supplies.”

“You don’t have to travel so far, you know.”

“Don’t I?”

Remus sighed harshly, suddenly tired of the game. “Come home with me, Severus. Take a day off from skulking.”

-o0o-

Snape moved out of his shadow, his face pale and implacable as the moon. “Going to mull me some wine, Lupin? Sing me a carol, toast me a marshmallow?”

“Fuck off, Snape.” Stung, Remus pulled out his wand, prepared to depart.

“Wait.” Snape reached out and touched his shoulder. “I didn’t mean that, exactly. I’m … I’m just tired.”

To Remus’ surprise, he heard an apology in Snape’s voice. They moved into each other’s arms then, familiar strangers, become almost too jaded to distinguish between love and an absence of loneliness.

Remus wondered when it would be too late for them.


-o0o-
stgulik: default icon (benita)
I hope you had a chance to enjoy [livejournal.com profile] melusinahp's "One Prompt, Many Writers" challenge last week. She solicited prompt ideas on her journal, and the prompt with the most votes was to be used in a drabble of less than 500 words.

I just put mine up on TPP, but I thought I'd share it here, too. The world needs more HGRL.

Special thanks to [livejournal.com profile] teddyradiator, the best alpha and all-around friend.

-o0o-

“To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves.”― Federico García Lorca, Blood Wedding and Yerma


-o0o-


Remus reached across the restaurant table and gently took hold of Hermione’s hand.

“All right, one more time.” He laid the red chopstick across her palm. “The bottom stick is held like so. Keep it steady. Then you place the second stick here … and hold it with your fingertips, like this.” He lingered a moment, tracing the soft flesh where her thumb and finger met. Her hand lay curled in his, a bird with a long, delicate beak.

Absorbed, she bent her fingers until the chopsticks touched. She flexed experimentally. “All right, I think I have it.”

“Now the true test.” He slid his hand away, nodded and gestured. She picked up her bowl the way he had showed her, the dim sum laid atop a snowy mound of rice. He watched not her hand, but her eyes, so it took a moment to interpret her impish look of triumph—she had simply skewered the dumpling with both sticks.

“Success,” she proclaimed, taking a healthy bite.

He laughed and sat back. “Don’t try that in China – it’s considered bad manners,” he teased.

“I can imagine,” she replied after swallowing. “How long did you live there?”

“Oh, eight months, I think. Mainly stayed in Hong Kong, working odd jobs where I could, and then I ventured out into the rural provinces.”

“Did you miss England at all?”

He concentrated on his own bowl. “I missed some things,” he replied smoothly. “Mattresses with springs. Honeyduke’s chocolate. Apothecaries with potions I recognize. That sort of thing.”

“And any … people?”

He caught the tone in her voice, and his eyes quickly raised to hers. Her eyes did not dart away, but held his gaze for a lingering moment.

Here, at last, was his opening, the chance to say what had been on the tip of his tongue all night. He could finally bridge the space between them. He felt sure she was waiting.

But over her shoulder, in the window behind their booth, the waxing moon showed its face like a hateful maitre d’ not at all sorry to intrude on an intimate moment. The moon: his first enemy, his eternal burden, his constant companion throughout his travels after the war. Already he could feel its intrusive power, coiled inside him, primed to take over sinew, muscle, bones, and will.

No woman should have to intersect her life with his. He would never make that mistake again, not even for her, Hermione, the woman who knew him so well; the woman he had loved, in some fashion or another, since her third year at school.

He took a deep breath. “Well, my son, of course,” he replied. “My Teddy.”

She dropped her eyes. “Naturally,” she agreed, laying aside the chopsticks. As she picked up her fork, Remus hitched up his most convincing smile and asked about work.
stgulik: default icon (avada kedavra)
It's Saturday, so you have plenty of time to read!

[livejournal.com profile] melusinahp's "One Prompt, Many Writers" challenge has posted today. Here's Part I and Part II. My drabble is among them. Anyone who knows me well should be able to guess which one is mine just by the pairing, and that's all I'll say for now. Melusin's going to put up the list of writers so you can have fun matching the story to the author. ETA: Play the matching game.

Go and read!
stgulik: default icon (halloween)
Have to say, I thoroughly enjoyed all the Halloween activities here on lj yesterday! The [livejournal.com profile] hp_halloween Drabble Exchange posted all throughout the day. I wrote this drabble, and received a gorgeous one in return from [livejournal.com profile] karasu_hime.

Thank you [livejournal.com profile] toblass, [livejournal.com profile] teddyradiator and [livejournal.com profile] droxy for the virtual Halloween cookies! All the trick or treating going on here was so much fun. I hope I can open my door to you next time.

We had scores of trick-or-treaters come by the house last night. I was glad to see many more tiny kids in their Captain America and fairy princess costumes, and fewer older teens in their black hoodies and emo make-up. Maybe it's a sign the recession is finally ending. But hey, they were all polite as could be, and all are welcome on Halloween night as long as the Snickers Fun-Size bars hold up.

Howl

Jun. 29th, 2012 09:31 pm
stgulik: default icon (calm ship snupin)
Title: Howl
Summary: When life hands you feathers, make owls.

I'm posting this a second time because I couldn't get lj and Google Docs to play nicely together before. Thanks Teddy and Trev for the Brit-picking. I wish I could hear it in Trev's voice ...

- - - - -

Remus walked into the gloomy owl office on the last Hogsmeade weekend of the school year. One round desk was lit by the skylight above, and here - besides dozens of post owls - stood the building's only other occupant.

"Get out, Lupin," growled Snape.

"It's a public building, Snape," replied Remus easily.

"Out, or I'll hex your bollocks off!" Snape seemed ready to shove him bodily out the door.

"What the hell, Snape? You can't just ..." Remus followed Snape's gaze upward and saw a tawny owl swoop inside. Clenched in its claws was a bright red envelope. The owl landed and ostentatiously stuck out a foot.

At the look on Snape's face, Remus clumsily warded the office door. "Better get it over with," he said bracingly.

The packet flew open and a slurred male voice shouted them down.

SEVERUS TOBIAS SNAPE, YE' FECKLESS GOOD-FER-NOTHIN'!

Both boys clapped their hands over their ears. Every owl screeched horribly and made a break for the skylight. The resulting owl-scrum blocked all the light.

I'LL HAVE YER GUTS FOR GARTERS IF YOU PUT ANOTHER FUCKIN TOE OUT O' LINE AT THA' PONCY SCHOOL. I'LL TAKE A BELT TO YOU EVEN IF I HAVE TO COME TO BLEEDIN' SCOTLAND MESELF!

In the silence, Remus's ears rang painfully. He lifted his eyes, expecting the worst. But to Remus's surprise, Snape just shrugged.

"My parents had to pay school damages yesterday. I knew he'd send a Howler, so I bribed our owl to meet me here. Fewer witnesses."

"I won't tell anyone," Remus swore.

"You better not, or I'll hex your bollocks off."

"You said that before," smiled Remus. "Look, it's raining feathers. Let's transfigure them into owls now that you lost Hogsmeade all theirs."

Snape turned away, but not before Remus caught his smirk.

- - - - -
stgulik: default icon (calm ship snupin)
My next drabble in a short series.

Title: Status Quo
Characters: Severus Snape, Remus Lupin

- - - - -

The Great Hall’s sky glowed with the last rays of an autumn sunset. Beside Severus, Remus looked pale. How much longer would he stay?

Over dessert, Albus leaned near, spoke quietly. Remus casually rose. His eyes caught Severus’s. For an instant, Severus felt the brush of fur.

Was this to be the way of it? Lupin, a danger every month? Dumbledore, oblivious to  consequence? But why shouldn’t they flirt with disaster. Severus will see to it. Severus will brew the potion that will keep a thin veneer of normality stretched tight over the well of madness.

Suddenly, anger bloomed red behind his eyes. How like his entire life. The world sleeps soundly while he labors in darkness to keep it safe. And nobody credits it - not the man who holds his leash, nor the man who used to hold his heart.

“My boy,” whispered Albus, “people are staring.”


- - - - -
stgulik: default icon (antitonks)
What does a person's first fanfic drabble look like? In my case, it looks like this. Please be kind!

* * * * *
Reparo

Severus would not miss a single thing about school. Not this station platform, not those endless goddamn Quidditch games, and certainly not the library, where he could be found, alone, sprawled in one of the comfortable chairs deep in the Charms annex.

At first, Severus had been content to gaze at him obliquely: sandy hair, long fingers holding a book or a quill, throat enticingly exposed above a loose red and gold tie.

Later – “How would you pronounce this?” He had glanced up almost shyly, nudging a yellowed book across the arm of his chair.

One conversation led to more; one afternoon led to much more.

But the annex was discovered, then invaded, by giggling girls who seemed more interested in his biceps than Advanced Charms, and Severus was nudged out, resigned to having lost the best thing about the whole -

The train whistled. “Oi, Snape, you dropped something.” Remus Lupin was suddenly there, bending over, then pressing a cloth into his hand. “My address. Write me, yeah?” Before Severus could take a breath, Remus had moved down the platform. Severus clenched his hand around the handkerchief. Parchment rustled.

Maybe the year hadn’t been a total loss.

- - - - -

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