Hello all! This week I've decided to tackle some fan-fic, it's Harry Potter and is set in their fifth year, around the time when Fred and George were causing mayhem around the school to exact their revenge on Umbridge. Suitably, it's entitled Morning Mayhem. It's short and sweet, and I hope you enjoy!
Morning Mayhem
Malfoy smiled as he entered the Great Hall for another typical breakfast. He sat down next to Crabbe and Goyle just as the owls arrived, delivering the mail.
“Excellent, more money from Father,” he said, ripping an envelope from his owl’s talons and tearing it open greedily.Â
Then the letter exploded, leaving nothing but nasty-smelling clouds of black smoke. Amidst the roar and tumult that broke out in the Great Hall, Fred Weasley stood up on the Gryffindor Table, waving his arms in the air.
“Sorry!” he yelled, pulling George onto the table. “Sorry, everyone!”
“Well, truth be told, we’re not really sorry,” George said.
“Exploding Envelopes! Our latest invention!”
“Get a bad report? Bored with the usual Christmas cards? We’ve got just the thing for you!”
“Order through the Daily Prophet – Two Galleons for one, five for a pack of three!”
“That’s a little steep, isn’t it?” Ron said, hastily pulling his porridge away from Fred’s feet. He looked to Hermione for support; unfortunately, she had already gotten up and was attempting to pull the twins off the table.
“Honestly, will you two ever–”
BANG!
Hermione flew backwards as a fist connected with her nose.
“You’ll pay for that one, Granger! Wait until I tell my father about this!”
Harry spun around to see Malfoy furiously standing over her, his wand pointed into her face. He swiftly pulled his out, his mouth open to curse Malfoy into oblivion, when suddenly Professor Umbridge’s face smiled at him over Malfoy’s shoulder.
“Hem hem.” She tapped her fingernails on the table. “Dear dear, boys...”
Hermione gave a small but audible cough.
“And Granger.” Her smile grew wider. “We all know what happens to misbehaving students. Ten points from each of you.”
She turned to Malfoy. “As a member of the Inquisitorial Squad, this is just another example where your skills to discover misdemeanour are invaluable. Fifty points to Slytherin, I should think?”
She walked away, humming happily.
“That’s what you get for helping the Weasleys make their rubbish, Granger,” Malfoy scoffed, before jauntily leaving. Fred and George looked shocked.
“Well, now that’s just rude.”
“To think he doesn’t believe we can make these things ourselves. Appalling, I call it.”
Hermione got up, looking miffed. “Well I hope you two are happy. What happened to keeping a low profile?”
“You should be happy! We’re not testing our products on first-years anymore, are we?” George replied.
“Actually we should thank you – this idea’s much better. The results from Malfoy’s reactions should be invaluable, especially after an extended study.”
Harry and Ron looked at each other and grinned, imagining Malfoy experiencing months of continuous pranks and tricks. Hermione, however, still looked annoyed, leaning in closer to Fred and George.
“In case you’ve forgotten, our target is Umbridge, remember?” she muttered under her breath. “You should focus on more important goals!” She grabbed her book bag and left, walking towards the library.Â
“Oh, but we are,” Fred whispered into Harry’s ear. “We swapped the envelopes in her office a week ago. She’s going to get a nasty shock when she tries opening any new decrees.”
Harry choked on his pumpkin juice, trying hard not to laugh.
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Welcome to my first Friday Night Write submission!Â
To kick off, this is the first chapter of "Destiny"Â - a fantasy novel about a girl named Guin who fights against her totalitarian world and risks everything she has to save her family.
Happy reading! Share and enjoy :)
(yeah it's past 9 PM but my internet was down T.T)
DESTINY
Destiny is not a matter of chance; it is a matter of choice.
It is not a thing to be waited for; it is a thing to be achieved.
William Jennings Bryan
 Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
Unknown
 CHAPTER ONE
 “They’re here.”
Guinevere’s eyes flew open.
“Can I not have a decent night’s sleep?” she asked, yawning, before ducking as a pillow flew past her head.
“Stop your whinging, you silly goose,” said Moira, tying up her thick brown hair. “Hurry up. The lords only come once a year.”
“Moira especially is to be honoured by their presence,” Poppy said gaily, sailing past her, brandishing a pink silk scarf,
All five of the girls laughed merrily, including Moira.
“Well, I shan’t be going anywhere without my scarf,” she replied, grabbing it out of Poppy’s hands.
“Has anyone seen my slippers?” Rosemay asked, looking under her bed.
“They’re in the chest,” Aelinor said softly, pulling off her bonnet.
“Guin, may I borrow your earrings?”
“No, Poppy, I...”
“Thank you, dearest. They become me better anyhow.”
“Poppy, you wretch!”
She squealed as Guin chased her around the room, tumbling over discarded shoes and torn dresses. Suddenly, a loud horn blasted through the icy air.
“We must go!”
“I am not nearly ready yet.”
“Hurry!”
“I’m leaving now!”
“Wait!”
“Help me!”
Giggling, they walked out into the street, arm in arm, tripping over their own feet.
 “Rosemay,” Moira said presently after a silence, “why are you here?”
Poppy and Guinevere snickered as Rosemay sighed.
“Someone has to watch you, in case you run off with one of the knights,” she answered piercingly, stopping their laughter abruptly.
“Yes, I believe that is the only reason that Matthew comes, Rosemay,” Aelinor remarked softly, causing all of the girls to resume chuckling.
“God help me,” Rosemay moaned, before grinning with the rest of them.
“Moira, your bow’s lopsided,” Aelinor commented.
“Is it? Oh, please fix it for me, Elli darling,” answered Moira distractedly, looking behind at her skirt.
“I, for one, only wish to be picked by a lord if he happens to be handsome and disgustingly rich,” Poppy commented drolly, Â
“Poppy, you absurd creature,” Guin said, poking her.
“What about you, Guinevere? Shall you be whisked off by a Lord of the Realm?” Rosemay asked.
Poppy and Moira looked at each other, before bursting into laughter.
“Can you imagine it?” Moira said, giggling.
“I can see it now; the knights falling over themselves to win her hand – “
“- and the lords saying, “How well you work, my dear,”!” they sang loudly, chortling and giggling.
 “Hush now,” Rosemay said suddenly, as they walked through the stone archway. As the blazing torches in brackets, high on the black stone walls, became visible, they fell silent. All of the townspeople were congregating on the large seats in the amphitheatre; mothers and fathers sedating young girls and boys as they excitedly awaited the beginning of the ceremony. The sisters occupied their usual seats at the front.
“There they are!” Poppy whispered, pointing at a group of men in the centre of the theatre.
 They wore blood-red cloaks that stained the gloomy night. Ornate sword scabbards of silver and opal hung at their waists. Disdainful looks swept across their faces as they looked at the congregation.
“Proud gits,” Guin muttered under her breath. Moira looked scandalised.
“Guin! Show some respect!”
“If you must be an outlandish tomboy, Guinevere, please keep the fact to the confines of our house and nowhere beyond,” Rosemay said curtly.
“I can hear horses,” Aelinor said.
Poppy squealed as Moira’s face turned white.
“It’s starting!” Moira gasped.
 The silent knights rode down into the square, their armour glistening in the moonlight. Their helmets were drawn over their faces; metal grills to hide behind as the night grew old. The noble white steeds were all marked with red plumes descending down their heads.
The crowd almost stopped breathing in anticipation as one of the lords stepped forward.
“Welcome,” he said, holding his head aloft. “Young ladies, over there!”
Amid much rustling and whispering, the girls got up and stood where the lord pointed.
“Feels funny, doesn’t it?” Poppy whispered to Moira.
“Well, Rosemay’s an engaged woman. It’s up to us now,” Moira replied, breathing quickly as she stood in line.
“Must I get up?” Guin groaned, scowling, before receiving a sharp kick from Moira.
“Get in line now,” she hissed through her teeth. Sighing, Guin stood with the rest of the girls, slouching. Aelinor stood next to her, staring intently at the men.
 The Seven Sections of Haervylle, the finest country in the entire Pathedome, were each ruled over by a single lord. Together, they were the Lords of the Realm. Everyone knew of them, from the highest noble to the lowest peasant. The poor thought the lords were like gods. The rich knew better.
Every year, the seven men went to each of their native cities in turn, bringing their chivalrous knights. This they did in order to keep up with affairs, scope out the land and – most importantly to peasant girls like Moira and Poppy – find servants and maids. It was also very common for a knight to whisk off a maiden to marry from the selection of girls. However, the lords, though all bachelors, had never succumbed to an infamous town beauty. It was every girl’s dream to be chosen by one of the knights.
Every girl, that is, apart from Guin.
 “Stop slouching!” whispered Moira fiercely.
“Smile, Guin. Honestly, a good first impression is everything!” Poppy said through her teeth, which were clenched widely into an attractive smile.
Guin stayed still.
Moira rolled her eyes, before hastily lifting her head.
The knights were dismounting.
In unison, every silver-clad man dropped onto the ground. Pulling up their helmets, they fell into line and started walking past the girls, inspecting each of them in turn.Â
The silence was occasionally broken with a subtle whisper or a telling glance. Every girl beamed in anticipation, only to have the knights walk past her without a second glance. Moira, in front of her sisters, was passed by half a dozen knights, before one of them stopped suddenly.
“Well, aren’t you the pretty one!” he said admiringly. His voice, compared to the relative silence of the others, was uncommonly loud. Moira blushed prettily and curtsied. The knight smiled, sending a shiver down her body.
“Pray, what is your name?”
“Moira Mauvais, sir.”
“Indeed.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. “Fair maiden, would you accept this token and enter into my service?”
“I would be honoured -” She suddenly pressed a hand to her forehead, wincing.
  Huh?
Look, Aelinor thought. Moira saw a flash of one of the lords in her mind.
Which one?
The one with the golden hair and brown eyes, Guin answered.
He’s Lord Nickolas, and he’s been staring at you for the last twenty minutes, Poppy added.
Yes, and he’s been in a foul disposition since that knight started talking to you, Aelinor commented.
 The conversation had taken less than a second, and the knight was still standing there expectantly.
“Excuse me; sudden headache,” Moira said quickly, looking around the knight at the Lords. She quickly spotted Lord Nickolas, and her heart sped up. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen. His broad shoulders and muscular build were visible under his scarlet cloak. Moira had never seen a prouder nose or more prominent chin on any man of her acquaintance. His eyes, however, were his outstanding feature; fiery, intense, mesmerising and all-consuming. That and his glorious, luxurious hair...
Oh, and it didn’t help that he was staring straight at her with the same intense eyes, scrutinising her every feature.
Moira blushed deeply, looking away.
 “Excuse me, fair maiden, but are you quite well?” The poor knight looked very perplexed.
 “Then, would you be so kind as to take my token?”
“I, um...”
“It is irrelevant whether you wish to or not. The offer is now withdrawn.”
 Glancing up, Moira saw the face of the lord, barely two inches away from her own.
She gasped softly and sunk into a deep curtsey. Lord Nickolas smiled slightly, staring straight at her.
“But, my lord...”
“Henry, go away.” He dismissed the knight with a flick of his hand, never moving his eyes from Moira’s face.
“Your name, pray?”
“Bella.”
Why did I say that?!? Moira thought, panicking.
You really are pathetic, you know that? Luckily for you, you’ve got me to step in for you, Guin thought, sighing.
Guin, no!
“Her name is Moira.” Guin said clearly. Lord Nickolas turned slightly to look at Guin.
“I believe this young lady would know her own name.”
“She normally does, except when pompous fools like you go and scare her.”
There was a collective intake of breath.
“So much bravery in one so young... It is an admirable thing.” He stroked Guin’s face for a second. “However, if you were to accept my offer of service, I would have to work on... taming you.”
Guin spat into his face and then kicked him in the groin. Lord Nickolas crumpled onto the ground, moaning. Â
“I really don’t like condescension. Maybe you could try to act like a nobleman sometimes, instead of being the arrogant, brainless son of a dog you actually are.”
And with that, Guin ran out of the amphitheatre.
 The knights rushed to help the lord up. He waved them away, getting up slowly. Moira hung her head in shame. She wanted to die right there and disappear into the ground. Lord Nickolas stood up, a disgusted look on his face.
“Come, knights. We’re done here.”
The knights filed out of the amphitheatre, walking their horses out.
“Who was that girl?” the same knight asked Aelinor as he walked past.
“Her name is Guinevere. She’s my sister.”
The knight looked away for a second, before whispering into Aelinor’s ear, “Tell her that I’ve always longed to do that.”
“Shall I add that you admire her bravery?”
He grinned. “You can, if you wish.”
“She’s free today at noon, and often walks in the forest.”
“You... can you read minds, or something?”
“I merely observe, sire.”
He nodded, before following the other knights. As soon as all of the men had left the arena, Poppy turned to Moira.
“Is it over, then? That was rather quick.”
Moira snarled.
“Moira, calm yourself. I’ll deal with Guin when we get home.” Rosemay had suddenly appeared, grabbing Moira by the arms.
“What... Let go! Release me!”
“I’ll come home later, I want to talk to the other girls,” Poppy said.
“Gossip, you mean. Fine! Be home for breakfast.” Rosemay answered, dragging a protesting Moira towards the gate. Aelinor followed silently, solemnly skipping over the stones.
  “Now, Moira, don’t be too hasty,” Rosemay said when she released Moira outside of the house. Moira sprinted inside, slamming the front door behind her. Her scream of “Guin!” sounded throughout the house, shaking the timber walls.
“Ah,” said Aelinor.
“Best to let them fight it out?” Rosemay asked.
Aelinor nodded.
“I’ll sort them out,” she said. “You go find Matthew. Bring me back some food, okay?”
“Elli, you’re an angel,” Rosemay replied, kissing her on the head and walking back up the path.
 Moira kicked down the bedroom door. Guin lay on the bed, reading a book.
“Guin, you complete arse!”
“Hello to you too, Moira,” Guin replied calmly, turning a page.
“Go and apologise. Now. Say you were having delusions or something! I don’t care! Just go and accept Lord Nickolas’ offer!”
“I will not,” Guin replied shortly. “He may be the richest man in the land, but heaven help me if I ever offer myself up willingly. I could never forgive myself if I gave myself up like a piece of meat.”
“Then what does that make us, pray?” Moira answered scathingly. “You may turn your nose up now, but your insolent pride and arrogance will cost you your security for the future.” She turned to leave.
“I don’t give a damn!”
“Yes!” Moira spun around, her face bright red from anger. “You don’t care. You think you’re so smart, but you’re stupid! Every girl in the country has more intellect than you. They know how to survive, and yet you, the infamous brain, choose to throw yourself against the oncoming tide!”
“Moira, stop...”
“No, I will not, for it is all true, and the worst part is that you don’t care who you take with you! You could at least care a little for me!”
“I do care for you, that’s why I defended you!”
“Defended!”  Moira repeated incredulously. “Don’t you see, Guin? My one shot at happiness was right in front of me and then you ripped it apart!”
Sobbing, she ran out of the room.
Guin, throbbing with anger, threw the book across the room. Swearing loudly, she slammed the window open and jumped out of it, running towards the forest.
Even though I'm a writer I'm not very good at the actual "consistently creating new material thing" because I procrastinate all the time and never seem to have enough time to finish things.
So as off now, I pledge that I will upload some form of writing every single Friday by 9:00 PM AWST (Australian Western Standard Time, +8).Â
These will probably be short stories, although there will probably also be some fanfiction, poetry and chapters of longer stories. Maybe even a comic strip or two, who knows.
I'd really appreciate it if you guys could read them and comment! That would be awesome :3Â
