Well, maybe not a drabble a day, but I’m going to aim for 20 drabbles over the course of the month.
This week’s character is Remus Lupin. I’ll be doing a handful of drabbles with Remus between the first of May and the seventh. When I have a bunch, I’ll post them together on the archives. In the meantime, I’ll be posting them singly here.
Drabbles are one-hundred word mini-stories. Sometimes people use the word “drabble” to describe any kind of very short story, but technically, it should be exactly one-hundred words, not including the title. There are also double-drabbles of two-hundred words, triple-drabbles of three-hundred, etc. I’m not going to hold myself to one-hundred words, but the word count of each little story must be a multiple of one hundred, and I am limiting myself to a maximum of five hundred words. If I can’t keep it to five hundred, I’ll put it aside to develop into a longer one-shot. But rather than meticulously hand-count each word and determine whether hyphenated words count as one or two words, for the sake of simplicity, I will just use WordPerfect’s word count.
Here is the first in the series of drabbles. This one is a double-drabble.
Remus sat back against the shed’s rough wood, the ground hard beneath him, the misting drizzle dampening his hair.
Unlike a certain Slytherin, he never cried. But he felt like crying now, his gut tangled, his throat constricted. Two weeks in Care of Magical Creatures, already he knew he’d Troll out.
Remus sighed. “Yes, Professor Kettleburn?”
“You’re still out here? Class ended three hours ago.”
Remus shrugged. Kettleburn creaked down beside him.
“We’re getting a new creature next week.”
“Probably’ll die or run away from me, just like the others.”
“Oh, don’t take that to heart! Besides, the Flobberworm wasn’t dead. It just excreted flobber-stink to make you think it was. It woke a couple hours ago. And Professor Slughorn was quite happy to receive a dozen Billywig stings last week. As for the Bowtruckle on Monday, they always run for it.”
“Besides, next week we’ll be watching a litter of Crup puppies with their dam.”
“She’ll probably warn me off.”
“Not at all. Crups are discerning creatures of the family Canidae. They’re certain to like you.”
“Come, Lupin! Dinner now; next week, Cruppies.”
“Okay, Professor.” Crups might be okay. They were family, after all.