Apparently the recent cold temperatures we've all been experiencing (ok, North America) have extended to the infernal regions, because hell has frozen over. In other words, I wrote some HP ficlets last night, egged on by the wonderful women of hpshortfics. I rather like my first one; the second one, I was feeling a bit rushed on and was reaching a bit. Plus, old Mae West joke. I didn't write for goseaward's Challenge Of Evil, so only two.

Challenge by amanuensis1: Snape/Pettigrew, New Year's Eve. I'd call this one gen, PG:

New Beginnings

January 1, 1981

The streets around Spinner's End were quiet; the few people who lived nearby kept their celebrations private, or had no cause to celebrate at all. No sound of revelry reached the two young men. One was thin and dark, one was fair and chubby, and they sat together in a darkened room, toasting each other with cheap firewhisky bought from a whore they'd shared earlier in the evening.

"To new beginnings," said Severus Snape.

"To new beginnings," said Peter Pettigrew.


January 1, 1995

Knockturn Alley celebrated raucously, but the thick doors of the discreet pub muffled most of the noise. Shortly before midnight they opened, admitting a burst of cacophony and a thin man in a hooded black cloak that hid his features.

"So you're still with us," said the man who waited at a table in a dark corner.

"Of course. And you are…restored to us. Tell the Dark Lord I await his instructions."

The barmaid brought them wine, and they each poured themselves a glass.

"To new beginnings," said Severus Snape.

"To new beginnings," said Peter Pettigrew.


January 1, 1997

The new headquarters was not far from Muggle London; flashes of light from fireworks lit up the windows at odd intervals, casting strange shadows on the occupants' faces. There were three of them: a balding man with a silvery arm, a thin, black-haired man with a hooked nose, and a youth who wrapped his arms around his knees, staring at the others with a set jaw and a hint of a sneer as they toasted each other with champagne stolen from Merlin knew where.

"To new beginnings," said Severus Snape.

"To new beginnings," said Peter Pettigrew.


January 1, 1998

The bodies lay in the dirty snow of the lane on the edge of Hogsmeade. One was thin and dark, one was fair and chubby; they'd made their attempt during the Christmas holiday. It had failed.

"To new beginnings," said Harry Potter.

---

Challenge by titti: Bill/Draco, Christmas. This one is actually slashy, but still PG.

The noise from the Christmas party was giving Bill a headache. Fleur always invited too many people, and they always dressed too elaborately, talked too loudly, and drank too much. Nobody would notice, he was sure, if he slipped into a side bedroom for just a moment or two.

In the darkened room the air seemed fresher. Bill set his glass of fizzywine on the bureau and loosened the collar of his robe; there, that was better. When he reached for his glass again a cool hand covered his, and he turned, startled.

"You're not much for these parties, are you." The amused drawl was instantly recognizable, even if the pale shaft of moonlight on paler hair hadn't given away the pointed features of Draco Malfoy.

"I leave the social events to my wife," Bill said. "She invites whom she pleases." He had known better than to object when he saw the Malfoy name on the guest list. He wouldn't have received his last promotion were it not for Fleur's finely honed social-climbing skills; even a goblin-run bank nodded to status and standing when handing out the laurels.

"And you think I please her?" asked Draco archly.

Bill laughed. "God, I hope not."

Draco's hand teased away the glass, caressed his fingers. Pulled a startled Bill close against his chest. "Then I'll have to please you."