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Cheering charm meme - The Phantom Librarian
Spewing out too many words since November 2003
Cheering charm meme
anna_fredricka pointed out that lots of people out there are feeling a bit low, so let's get a happy meme going.

So, here it is. It's sort of a complex sounding meme-rule setup, but it's really just passing the baton--you write up to a scenario, and leave that scenario to your commentors, who then take it to their journals and leave their own scenarios to follow up.

We're in an alternate dimension, where everyone who goes through Hogwarts (at any era) is perpetually in fifth year, and it's time for the Practical Charms O.W.L. The test for the Cheering Charm is set up in a unique manner: all of the characters except the one being tested are waiting in an antechamber, and the examiner calls anyone who strikes his or her fancy in to be the target of the charm. When the test concludes, the person who was the subject becomes the person being tested, and the examiner calls in someone else. By the power of magic, in this scenario, Muggles and non-human magical creatures may also be tested and appear as subjects. For the sake of the meme (and it doesn't really match the books), assume that the person casting the charm must find some idea which makes both people happy.

The meme, if you choose to accept it, is to write a drabble (or short-short, don't fret over the word-count) from the point of view of the person being cheered up. When the person has become successfully cheered, the person doing the charm is excused, and a new subject is called in. The new subject can be anyone you want, but other people will be writing it. (Eg, I write a Tom-Riddle-Cheers-Nymphadora-Tonks fic, at the end of which Tom exits and Tonks is left to be the cheerer to Minerva McGonagall, who is called next, and the comments to the post would be Minerva being cheered by Tonks, ending with someone else of the reader's choice being called to be cheered by Minerva.) All people being examined are wildly successful, and each story-let should involve the character being cheered up and feeling good. What does it feel like to feel good? What shared thoughts make the people happy?

Post your response in the comments here, calling anyone you like as the next subject, then also post it in your own journal, where people will answer it in
your comments.

And now, although the instructions are longer than the story, hopefully there will be more responses.

The door to the antechamber opened, and the little piebald witch who was running the examinations leaned out of it. "Miss Lily Evans?" she called. "If you please."

Lily followed her in, and immediately turned on her heel to leave. A bony hand pulled her back. "That wasn't a request, Miss Evans."

Lily smiled tightly. "I know. But it's... perhaps not fair. I wouldn't want Bellatrix to fail her exam just because she can't imagine what might make a Mudblood happy." She gave her most acid smile. Bellatrix returned it with a glare.

"Nevertheless," the examiner said, "we'll see what Miss Black can do." She sat back behind her table.

"Don't worry," Bellatrix said. "I'm not going to fail Charms on your account." She raised her wand and said the incantation.

For a moment, Lily felt nothing, not even the vague sort of good cheer she'd felt when she'd first practiced this. Of course not.

A tickle of an image came into her mind, a fleeting view of a pure stream in the forest. It would make her happy coming from anyone else, but she knew that for Bellatrix, the operative word was pure. It did nothing, and the image faded.

Bellatrix frowned, concentrated, and said the incantation again.

The image came more slowly. It was symbolic, but not as clear or easy to place an image to as the pure stream. The stream was there, but now there were people standing in it, disappearing in an endless line into the forest, wise men and women growing more and mor ancient as the stream slipped back into time. A motion stirred at the head of the line, and Lily saw them passing something, hand to hand, some beautiful, golden thing, and when it reached her, she was filled with wonder and awe, which only grew as she realized there was now someone to her other side, someone further down the stream, and she reached down to pass it on...

Her eyes were closed and she was still smiling widely when the examiner said, "Finite incantatem."

Lily opened her eyes to see Bellatrix wiping her wand in distaste as the examiner let her go, then gestured to the front of the room.

"Take your place, Miss Evans," she said. "I'll call in your subject." She went to the door, leaned out, and Lily heard her call, "Mr. Gilderoy Lockart? If you please..."
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velvetmouse From: velvetmouse Date: March 30th, 2005 04:05 am (UTC) (Link)
Lily frowned as Lockhart entered.

Gilderoy took his place with confidence, eager to see what the pretty red-headed witch had in store for him.

Quickly, she flicked her wand several times, and he felt his hair - troublesome that morning - relax into perfect waves; a sore spot on his chin that he hadn't gotten around to removing suddenly ceased to hurt; and he looked down to see that his robes, previous wrinkled from nervous pacing, were now smooth and flat.

An amusing trick, he thought to himself, but it was all charms he could have performed on himself. Not quite the full-fledged cheering he had been hoping for.

The examiner seemed to agree. "I'm sorry, Miss Evans," she said, "but that is not enough. However, your time is not yet up, if you wish to try again."

The red-head nodded and looked determined. Gilderoy felt the intense scrutiny of green eyes on him, as if she were trying to look through him, to see what might cheer him the best.

Suddenly the witch smiled brightly and conjured a stream of multi-colored bubbled from the end of her wand. With another flick she sent them wafting over towards Lockhart, and a third charm caused them to tickle his face and land on his hair and shoulders.

Despite a brief attempt to remain dignified, Gilderoy laughed outloud. This was just like the game he and mother used to play, when he was a boy, he thought as he batted at the bubble attack. But how had she known?

"Finite incantatem," the examiner said, and the bubbles vanished. "Very well done, Miss Evans. You may go."

Lily smiled at Gilderoy as she headed for the exit.

"Wait," he called after her. "How did you know?"

Smiling, Lily said nothing but touched her neck. Looking down, Lockhart saw that his own necklace, with the discrete bubble charm, was lying on his black school robes.

With a soft laugh, Lockhart turned his attention back to the exam, just in time to hear the examiner call "Sybil Trelawney?"
olympe_maxime From: olympe_maxime Date: March 31st, 2005 01:31 am (UTC) (Link)

Ooooh, Treckhart! (Or Lockhawney.. or Sybilderoy... or Gildil... :D)

(For the purposes of this story, I'm going to guess Sybill Trelawney is about 10 years older than Lockhart.)

Sybill walked in, letting her hair swing forward over her face, her chin ducked so low it brushed the neckline of her robes. The legs of the examiner's table grew closer as she walked. Why had they called her here? What if something went wrong at the shop while she was forced to be in Hogwarts, doing pointless things? But they hadn't given her a choice... She kept moving until she could no longer see all the way under the table, and stopped.

For a moment, the room was utterly still, with nothing but the sound of a student's anxious breathing. Sybill began to relax. If she squinted hard, she could make the floor blur into the fluffy carpet of her own room at home... Suddenly, a bony hand appeared out of nowhere under her nose, waving. Sybill jumped two steps back and looked up quickly.

A skinny little witch was glaring at her. "When you've decided to join us, Miss Trelawney!" she snapped, and, not waiting for an answer, she turned to the blond boy standing opposite Sybill and nodded.

Sybill barely had time to register a pang of unhappiness at being treated as if she was a schoolgirl... Her mind was bursting with ugly, nauseating images of that blond boy kissing her. She shut her eyes and recoiled, trying to push the image of his shining, red tongue away from her face; for a few moments that seemed to last an eternity, he continued with his onslaught, unwilling to give up.

Mercifully, the examiner interrupted sharply. "That's enough, Mr. Lockhart-"

But by now, Sybill, spitting with fury and indignation, had recovered the use of her own tongue. "Why, you stinking slimeball!" she screeched. "Don't you dare- What the bloody hell did you think you were-" She caught herself. She was dangerously close to tears. The examiner looked strict, and she didn't want to be reprimanded like a child again.

To her surprise, the little piebald lady seemed to be fighting a smile, and regarding Sybill with something bordering on respect. When she spoke, it was the the boy. "You will need to improve vastly, Mr. Lockhart, unless you are willing to risk a failing grade and" - she raised an eyebrow - "disembowelment, apparently."

The boy - Lockhart - looked chastened, and very confused. He stared thoughtfully at Sybill until she began to get very conscious of her unruly long hair and her thick glasses and the holes in her socks, which she knew he couldn't see, but it made her feel awkward just the same. Then the boy smiled at her, a brilliant, warm smile that was somehow filled with understanding.

An image began to glow in her mind. She and the Lockhart boy were standing on a high stage, looking down at hundreds and hundreds of people who, Sybill just knew, had come just to see them. They cried out her name (some shouted "Lockhart!", too, but she blocked them out easily) and tried to reach out to her with their arms outstretched. Her favourite was the woman who bowed deeply and presented her with a set of rare and magnificient Egyptian crystal balls. All the looked at her as if she was the most important person in the world.

The image faded, and she looked quickly at Lockhart with wonder in her eyes. But now he was grinning at her with a smug superiority, and she knew he wasn't seeing her. She blinked furiously and squinted at the floor again.

And she wasn't even listening when the examiner said, "Thank you, Mr. Lockhart. Now let's see... Minerva McGonagall? Would you come in, please?"

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