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First lines meme - The Phantom Librarian
Spewing out too many words since November 2003
First lines meme
I love this one. Gakked it from pauraque, but I've seen it popping up elsewhere.

Write a drabble with the same first line as one of my stories, and leave it in my comments here.

You can use the first lines below, or any first lines from my fics at Humongous Bighead (left menu link). I took out the ones that had named canon characters in the ones I listed, so they'd be more general. Don't worry about it being technically a drabble. Any word count you want is fine with me, and any fandom (please say which one!).

Father's Heart -- Half-heard whispers in the night.

The Only Question -- Somewhere in the distance, she heard a man scream.

Dragonslayer -- A time before words or understanding, when there is no difference between "we" and "I."

Homecoming -- It is merely a house. It was never anything more.

A Voice In the Ashes -- Slither skidded to a stop in the Burned Over District, feeling more than hearing the presence of the Imperial Peacekeepers.

Hidden Home -- The cage swung slowly back and forth, but Kerea had gotten past the seasickness hours ago.

Kind Eyes -- "You shouldn't be alone, Bill," the parson said, "not tonight."

Banding Together -- It was a minor incident, as such things went, and no one pretended otherwise.

Of A Sort (Tom Riddle) -- Adders, the herpetologists kept saying--often with a level of frustration that was close to tears--were never aggressive.

The Hinkypunk's Lure -- The Wolf does not know past or future, does not understand the nuances of betrayal or the depth of grief.

Blood in the Earth -- The family had been granted the name of "Gillivray," servant of judgment, by King Arthur himself, near the end of the days of light, when Parlen of Ottery had served as the king's man in a wizards' duel in the North Country.
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castaliae From: castaliae Date: October 6th, 2004 08:19 pm (UTC) (Link)
Somewhere in the distance, she heard a man scream. It sounded like Bill. She wondered who had gotten him. She sat here biding her time until the other side grew tired. She’d seen others, like Ron, taken down as soon as the struggle emerged and she didn’t want to go out like that.

Suddenly she knew she’d been spotted. From behind she suspected. Her hair would always give her away unless it was autumn.

“Ginny, hidings hardly an honorable thing to do.”

She twisted around, her dress swishing against her ankles. “They’re too strong, I’ll be caught.”

He paused, looking down on her critically. “Well, I don’t have my glasses and could really use a long range scout. Help me?” Percy’s hand reached to grasp her own. He pulled her up onto his shoulders, raising her high.

“Shall we?” he asked and she nodded resolutely, but her lips hinted at a wicked smile underneath. They took off running.

How juvenille does it make me if when I read "somewhere in the distance, she heard a man scream," my first thought was 'well they're playing marco polo of course.'

That was fun, thanks.
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: October 6th, 2004 09:30 pm (UTC) (Link)
Tee-hee-hee. I like it. :)

This is a fun one. I wrote a Buffy-fic over at pauraque's journal.
sonetka From: sonetka Date: October 6th, 2004 08:38 pm (UTC) (Link)
That's a really neat idea - in fact, I have been inspired to write my first-ever HP fanfic (actually, my first fanfic for about six years, but that's another story). Here 'tis; hope it's worthy of your first line :). Sorry about the length!


"You shouldn't be alone, Bill," the parson said, "not tonight." After a pause. "Where is May, anyway? I would have thought she'd be with you."

"She went to a play with the Kurtzes - they wanted me to come, but I didn't exactly feel the thing. She said she'd stay behind with me, but I told her to go - you know how social she is. It'll cheer her right up. I'd rather be by myself, to be honest."

"Well, it's a good thing I happened by, then, because you shouldn't be. You look like you need someone to talk to."

"And how much of this will be passed on at the next old ladies' social?"

"None of it. You're safe with Mother Church. What would make you think that, anyway? You and May already told me enough to set the bridge club alight for months, and have you heard a word from them? I'd say not."

"No, you're right." Bill smiled reluctantly. "They're still busy with Sarah Jennings' eldest and her gormless boyfriends, at least according to May's mother." A pause. "I would almost rather that was our problem."

"Bill, don't be ridiculous. We talked about this before. It isn't a problem - it's a gift, a wonderful gift. It's hard to get used to, but there's nothing fundamentally wrong with it. It just takes … adjustment."

"Adjustment, yes. You know, Stan, we had so much - have so much - riding on her. The only one we could have - I know that we pressured her, but she seemed to thrive on it. She could memorize a child's book in an evening, knew more than an encyclopedia - she told me that once, during a maths exam, it was as if she could see into the books, see the information she had forgotten, though I'll wager it wasn't much. And now…what will they teach her in that place? I looked at those books of hers - no maths, hardly any literature, the history is there, but it's so strange - what's going to become of her?"

"She'll be fine, Bill. Think of it as one of those cultural exchanges that the kids do nowadays."

"Yes, a permanent one."

"Possibly. But she'll learn all about their world, and if you're concerned about maths and such, get her some tutoring during the holidays. I'm sure she'll like that - there aren't enough hours in the day to study, as far as she's concerned. Things won't be that different, you'll see." He rose from the porch steps and gathered up his coat. "How much can change in a few months? Next Christmas - next holidays - she'll still be the same Hermione. By the way," he fumbled in his pocket and finally produced a small memorandum book. "What's the address of this place? We'll send her a postcard, let her know that her friends here are still thinking of her."

Bill only shook his head slowly and let out a long breath. He did not reply, and after a few moments, the parson slipped away, wondering.
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: October 6th, 2004 09:29 pm (UTC) (Link)
Interesting idea. The question of what Hermione's parents have to think about their bright and ambitious daughter "disappearing," as they would see it, is an interesting one.
narnian_dreamer From: narnian_dreamer Date: October 6th, 2004 08:41 pm (UTC) (Link)
What's a drabble?
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: October 6th, 2004 08:42 pm (UTC) (Link)
Technically, it's a 100 word story (see hp100). But here, it just means "short short story."
ashtur From: ashtur Date: October 6th, 2004 08:51 pm (UTC) (Link)

From: Summer Strangers

"Now, Pet, don't pester Lily when she gets home."

"Mum, don't call me that," complained James.

Teresa Potter smiled. It was so easy to get under the skin of her son. "Anyway, she's nearly due, and you don't want to put her under any extra stress."

"I know that, she is my wife after all."

"So, have you decided what you are going to name him yet?"

Teresa noticed the door opening behind James, but James himself hadn't noticed it.

"Oh, we are going to name him Fauntleroy."

"Over my dead body!" screeched Lily.
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: October 6th, 2004 09:14 pm (UTC) (Link)

Re: From: Summer Strangers

Ack, don't do that, my roommate's asleep already and I just burst out laughing out loud!

Fauntleroy Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone...
narnian_dreamer From: narnian_dreamer Date: October 6th, 2004 10:07 pm (UTC) (Link)
The cage swung slowly back and forth, but Kerea had gotten past the seasickness hours ago. Some of the others weren't so lucky. She could hear them around her, voicing their pain with inarticulate sounds that rose together into a single clamor through which no one voice could be distinguished. She could smell them, too, the odors of their involuntary reactions festering in the keep.
Kerea closed her eyes so that she would not have to see the bars all around her. She would have spoken to one of the others to pass the time, but she had been seperated from the last fellow captive she knew before they were loaded into the boats, and she was in no mood to reach out to new friends. If only their captors had decided to fly them over the sea!
But she realized suddenly that the rocking motion of the ship had slowed quite some time ago, and they had drifted to a complete stop. She could hear the sailors tramping about above deck, and the gangplank was thrown open. They'd finally arrived, long before she'd been expecting it!
That the journey was not as long as she feared startled her. She hadn't been prepared for this. She grew suddenly nervous. What was to happen to her now, what was her new life to be? Was she ready to meet it? Was the one who waited ready to meet her?
A cold gust of fresh air and harsh light flooded the hold from the surface. She blinked furiously into the glare, temporarily blinded as she heard a tall man in robes descend the stairs. Imperiously he raised his wand, but before continuing, he paused.
"Hey Earl," he shouted back up the stairs, "Get a move on and help me load this new shipment of owls!"
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: October 6th, 2004 10:17 pm (UTC) (Link)
Snerk. Owls. :p
alphabet26 From: alphabet26 Date: October 6th, 2004 10:23 pm (UTC) (Link)
It was a minor incident, as such things went, and no one pretended otherwise.

It was just that Fred and George weren't the sort to let even little things pass.

Especially when it came to Percy. And Percy didn't like to let Fred and George get the best of him, either.

So it escalated into a major incident.

Molly sighed and summoned the three boys in. She decided not to notice Percy's smirk. He was just as wrong as Fred and George--but it wasn't every nine-year-old who could pull of a hex like that.

"Mummy, look what--"

"I don't want to hear it, George," she said. "You all know better than this."

"Yes, Mum," all three mumbled.

"You are never to use Bill and Charlie's wands like that again."

"No, Mum."

"You do not want to know what I will do if you ever try anything like that again, do you understand me?"

"Yes, Mum."

"Good. Percy, go to your room and do not come out until I get home. Fred, George, get your jumpers. We'll have to have someone at St. Mungo's get rid of these warts."
narnian_dreamer From: narnian_dreamer Date: October 6th, 2004 10:58 pm (UTC) (Link)
Yay, Weasleys!

This is cute. I like it. I've often wondered what that house was like when the kids were small.
alphabet26 From: alphabet26 Date: October 8th, 2004 12:25 pm (UTC) (Link)
Thanks! I imagine that it was generally a chaotic place, especially when the older children came home from Hogwarts (for summer or for the holidays), and that there was lots of "accidental" magic going on. ("I didn't know if I waved the wand and said words that stuff would happen! Honest!" ;P)
calico321 From: calico321 Date: October 7th, 2004 12:49 am (UTC) (Link)

Assuming we can use a different fandom than the line was orignally used.

It is merely a house. It never was a home. Number four Privet Drive had offered many things, but love, encouragement, and compassion were not among them. In hindsight, Harry realizes had it not been for the Dursleys - or more specifically the blood bond Petunia shared with his mother - he might not be alive today to leave the house forever, but it is little consolation for the memories he has to carry with him.

There are no warm goodbyes, no teary sendoffs. Quietly, Harry packs his few belongings, leaving many of Dudley's hand-me-downs. More important were his wand, his Firebolt, and, of course, Hedwig. Levitating his trunk and the owl's cage, Harry descends the stairs and sees his aunt, uncle, and cousin standing closely together with various expressions upon their faces: Uncle Vernon is positively gleeful at his nephew's final departure, his cheeks and ears rosy from holding in the laughter; Dudley watches warily, as if expecting his now-of-age cousin to pull one final magical prank that would make the pig tail and the engorged tongue pale in comparison; Aunt Petunia won't even look at him and is much more interested in the lace doily covering a nearby table.

"Well, goodbye," Harry says. Moving his belongings out the door, he feels he has something else to say, though part of him dreads it terribly. "Th-thank you," he manages to spit out. When none of the Dursleys make a move to reply he simply shrugs and walks away.

A car waiting on the road. Remus sits in the passenger seat, while Tonks lounges against his door. "Wotcher, Harry," she calls. "That everything?"

He nods and she helps him load his belongings. Opening the back door, he impulsively looks back, one last glance at his childhood. The curtain in the front window is pulled back and Aunt Petunia gazes out. They lock eyes for a moment, and then she snatches the curtain back into place as if she was never there.

With a smile, Harry slides into the backseat, ready to finally go home.
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: October 7th, 2004 02:54 pm (UTC) (Link)

Re: Assuming we can use a different fandom than the line was orignally used.

Ooo, neat. I like the last glance from Petunia, a character who interests me more than she has a right to--the sneaking watchfulness is just right for her.
affabletoaster From: affabletoaster Date: October 7th, 2004 09:17 am (UTC) (Link)
Half-heard whispers in the night. Transparent faces in the dark. A hiss. A scream. I have let them down. Green light. Cursed green light. Everywhere now. I have failed. My hands twist in the crimson blankets, gripping the heavy fabric as if it was his throat. Hermione is sobbing. When did Hermione learn to cry? I want to reach her--to comfort her, but I cannot find her. The sound is getting farther away. Ron. Ron is angry. He throws a niffler at me and it bounces off my forehead. It is a very small niffler. Maybe I will find something precious now. That's what I want, isn't it? Where is Dumbledore? He needs to be told. He must know that the nifflers have slashed the painting of the Fat Lady, looking for Firebolts. Stop crying, Hermione. I'll find you. I'll find you, Mum. Green light.


Ron. Ron, why are you standing there? Your face is very white in the moonlight. Are you afraid? You're not angry now, are you? Where are the nifflers? Where is Hermione?

"Do you need a sleeping potion?"

Ron, let me up. Let me go. I need to find Hermione. The nifflers will slash the Fat Lady. I'll find you, Mum. When I close my eyes I can see you. When I close my eyes...
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: October 7th, 2004 02:56 pm (UTC) (Link)
Funky. :) Good dream sequence, the stream-of-consciousness works better here than it does in the opening section of FH, which the line was taken from.
affabletoaster From: affabletoaster Date: October 8th, 2004 08:32 pm (UTC) (Link)
Thanks! I don't usually like that kind of thing, and definitely don't write it, but it just felt right. :D
lessthanpie From: lessthanpie Date: October 7th, 2004 11:14 am (UTC) (Link)
The Wolf does not know past or future, does not understand the nuances of betrayal or the depth of grief. When he thought about it that way, Remus was almost gratful for the respite.

When he was The Wolf, he didn't have to think about what could have led Sirius to betray his friends. To wonder why he had been the only one left alive. Would he have been next if he hadn't been caught right after he'd killed Peter?

When he was The Wolf, he didn't have to remember the services. Didn't have to see James and Lily laid to rest in adjoing graves. Didn't have to see the small box that held the only thing left of Peter as they gave it to his mother or her face as she accepted it. Didn't have to see his own face in the mirror and wonder whether he had the strength to keep going on alone.

Things were simpler for The Wolf. Simple, but still not easy.
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: October 7th, 2004 02:56 pm (UTC) (Link)
Hmm. Same era--probably the same transformation--but what a different outcome!
liwy From: liwy Date: October 7th, 2004 02:37 pm (UTC) (Link)
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: October 7th, 2004 02:41 pm (UTC) (Link)
Heh... thanks for the link! I don't even think I know snarkel, either, so that makes it especially neat.
mafdet From: mafdet Date: October 7th, 2004 03:08 pm (UTC) (Link)
From "The Doll Army"

"You wanted to talk to me, Professor Sprout?" Nymphadora put on her most winning smile and innocent voice. This almost always worked on her dad. Her mum, and Professor Sprout, were a different matter.

Professor Sprout sighed. "Snape is not very happy with you right now, Miss Tonks. Nor is he very happy with me, either. First Hufflepuff beating Slytherin at Quidditch, and now a - a - [i]giant sparkly rotating ball[/i] attached to the Potions Classroom ceiling."

"It's a "disco ball," Professor Sprout. That's what Dad says they're called, anyway. I Transfigured it from an orange. Want me to show you?"

Professor Sprout put her head in her hands. "No, no, Miss Tonks. I believe you." She lifted her head and fixed Tonks with a stern expression. "Miss Tonks, you get top marks in all your classes, you're well liked, but have you ever wondered why you weren't chosen Prefect? You happen to lack one necessary quality."

"What's that?"

"The ability to behave yourself!" Professor Sprout shook her head. "Just like your father."

Tonks grinned. Though Professor Sprout no doubt hadn't intended it, she had just paid Tonks the highest compliment she could think of.
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: October 7th, 2004 08:31 pm (UTC) (Link)
Ha! Disco balls in Snape's dungeon. I like it. That's Tonks all over... not malicious, but it would annoy the hell out of Snape.

And I love her loving Ted. :)
chienar From: chienar Date: October 7th, 2004 08:14 pm (UTC) (Link)
not really a fanfic... but Fern should get a kick out of it.

It is merely a house. It was never anything more. Phyll had said it was on the other side of hell, when they were in high school. Funny thing that, since Reggie had more freedom then, more than most of their friends, except maybe Jerry and Kieth.

Reggie's mom still lived there, but the house was never home, it was the lake that was home, that always drew her back. It had been six months since the accident that left the scar from her temple to her cheek, and now they were taking her home... to the lake.

She looked at each of them, Phyll, Jerry and Kieth, disbelieving when they passed the zoo that her mom's house had turned into, starting to laugh, "alright, who do I owe money for being right about that?"
fernwithy From: fernwithy Date: October 7th, 2004 08:23 pm (UTC) (Link)
AAAAAGGGH!!! First, I get an e-mail to resketch Ciji Skywalker for role-playing, and now Reggie and Phyll and Keith and Jerry! (I actually have a long piece that I'm going to do with them once I get into an original writing funk. It's a horror novel, which also involves the demon Lilith.)

We have a furniture store here called Bernie and Phyll's, and I can't watch its commercial ("Bernie and Phyll's... quality, comfort, and price!") without thinking about that story.

chienar From: chienar Date: October 7th, 2004 08:25 pm (UTC) (Link)
I just could not resist.
kikei From: kikei Date: October 8th, 2004 03:45 am (UTC) (Link)
<a href="http://www.livejournal.com/users/enzesama/20731.html#cutid1>here</a> -Kiks
kikei From: kikei Date: October 8th, 2004 03:47 am (UTC) (Link)
grrr. stupid html. I meant here

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