2008 St. Patrick's Day Short Story/FanFic Contest

[LadyHealingHands]

St. Patrick's DayFanFiction Contest


found on photobucket

GRAND PRIZE
10 House Points PLUS
1000 gold
OR
choice of any one Cash store item up to $.99

RULES
Write or FIND a short Irish, leprechaun, St. Patrick's Day or green themed story, any length from one paragraph to one chapter long. Slytherin's relationship with the color green and/or snakes for instance. The story must fit with the Gaia TOS and involve one or more characters from the Harry Potter universe.

(Hint: You may want to check out the Index sticky for links to some great Fan Fiction sites in the main Forum).

If you're submitting a story you didn't write, be sure to give full credit: author's name, where you found it, and a link to the site.

Post the stories here in this thread, not just a link to where you found them. You can post pictures with them. Be sure to say where you found the picture, and name the artist or copyright holder if possible. Include a link to where you found the story, if you did not write it.

Spelling and grammar will count, so please spell-check and/or have someone beta read your story. Even if you didn't write it --please fix/correct spelling and grammar if the story needs it. Be sure to note that you edited the story, if you do so.

Copy and paste your edited story here, but include a link to the original.

May the Luck of the Irish be with ye!

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[Cerbera Dragon]

Author: Chikin Wang
Found on FanFiction.net. http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2848909/1/The_Leprechauns_Attack_at_Dawn
Italic = a note from the author, italicized by me.

It came to me a fortnight ago when I thought, ‘Why is it that the majority of holiday fics center around Christmas?’ And so the pondering led to many sleepless nights and frantic scrambles to juggle homework, work, lessons, and fic writing in order to get this up in time…

This fic doesn’t really fall into the HP timeline, so...try not to date it.

Another thing: I know in the UK people don’t do the immature pinching thing that the Americans do. But it had to be incorporated, so if you’re a…er…purist of such holiday traditions avoid scrolling down any further.

Disclaimer: I sit around and think up ways to make my holiday fics original. I highly doubt JKR does that…

The Leprechauns Attack at Dawn
A St. Patrick’s Day One-shot
Harry hated St. Patrick’s Day. No, he didn’t hate it; he merely abhorred the holiday with great discontent. Growing up with Dudley made sure of it. Never mind that all his green clothes seemed to disappear the night before the green holiday—or, rather, the fact that Harry had a built in mechanism for such a day (after all, his eyes were green). But try explaining something as intricate as this to his ogre of a cousin.

School days were the worst. Those consisted of loud jeers and skin cracking pinches from Dudley’s ban of oafs. Green, yellow, and purple splotches sprinkled up and down his scrawny arms for days afterwards. Nobody ever intervened, not even the teachers (of whom Harry thought were secretly terrified of the giant walking bowling ball quintet) and year after year, he suffered from such uncompassionate acts.

When he grew older, St. Patrick’s Day did not get better. Even though Dudley was no longer around to torment Harry (since the latter of the two started school at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry), Harry still felt his stomach give a hard twist when people threatened on another with harmless hexes for not donning green clothes. Not to mention the fact that green was the color of Slytherin house and how Harry greatly detested the majority of Slytherins...yes, it was not a wonder why Harry hated St. Patrick’s Day.

Why, then was he laying on his stomach at seven in the morning on such a day? It was just another day, but rarely did the famous boy-who-lived crack his eyes open before he heard the bustling sounds of his roommates. He tossed and turned restlessly, the usually silent springs of his bed protesting loudly; he constantly glanced at the clock in the corner of the room. The minutes ticked by at an excruciatingly slow pace. He glanced at the foot of his bed where he had laid out a red shirt and a pair of jeans for the day.

He was quite grateful it was a Hogsmeade Saturday.

The bed next to him grumbled and stirred before the heavy scarlet curtains with gold fringes parted and a gangly red haired boy, rubbing his bleary eyes with a large hand, pushed off the mattress.

"Morning Ron."

"Since when did your bed squeak s-s-so m-u-u-ch?" Ron grumbled as he yawned widely.

"Oh…sorry," Harry smiled apologetically as he untangled himself from the knotted sheets (caused by his endless tosses and turns).

The two changed out of their pajamas as the other three beds’ occupants also slowly woke from their slumber.

"It’s St. Patrick’s Day!" Seamus Finnigan roared with great eagerness as he leapt out of his bed.

"Oh…right," Ron shot a worried look at Harry. The raven haired boy ignored the look and turned topull his cloak out of his wardrobe.

A dark green light flashed and Harry whirled around. There stood Seamus, his wand withdrawn and pointed at himself, with an enthusiastic tint of green spreading across his face. Harry first released a sigh of relief (for he thought a Death Eater had stumbled into the room and performed the killing curse on the group) but then prepared to grab a rubbish bin and his wand (to perform the Vanishing Charm) in case Mr. Finnigan started to vomit. The sickly green color spread to Seamus’ fingers and toes and Harry raised his wand, prepared for the worst. Then the slight bit of green darkened and Seamus beamed (his teeth unnaturally white against the new skin tone). Without saying a word, Harry turned away and started down the spiral staircase.

Except for the clusters of enlarged shamrocks sitting on the tables, the common room looked relatively normal. Harry sank into his favorite squishy armchair by the extinguished fire and watched his fellow Gryffindors file by. Green clothes, shamrock jewelry, clover-clad hair, and other festive articles passed him. More than once was he threatened with a harmless pinching hex, but Harry, who was not in the mood, simply evaded the attacks with a simple block of his wand.

"Morning Harry," Ginny Weasley sang as she burst from the spiral staircase that led to the girls’ dormitory.

He studied the red haired girl’s dancing, dangling leprechaun earrings and clover hair tie. Hermione Granger, who was behind the younger girl, had no detectable green article, just simply a sweater, jeans, and a black cloak draped casually across her arm. Compared to Seamus Finnigan, the group appeared quite somber indeed. Harry greeted them graciously, trying to channel his gratitude through the simple words.

Right then, Ron bounded down the spiral stairs, pulling a dusty old hat onto his flaming red hair. He paused, feet away from the other three, and whipped out his wand.

"Hermione’s not wearing green!" he shouted triumphantly as he waved his wand sharply.

A spark of gold shot out and hit Hermione’s exposed wrist. "Ouch! Ron!" she glowered, rubbing the irritated skin.

She then held her cloak out, shaking it in Ron’s face. The two young men leaned in to find a green clasp in place of the usual silver fastenings.

"Yes, but are you wearing it?" Ron pointed out.

Hermione chose not to answer but simply glare at him.

"Where’d you get that anyway?" Harry quickly changed the subject, motioning at Ron’s hat.

"It’s from the Quidditch World Cup!" Ron took it off to shake the dust off and adjust the shriveled shamrocks. "I found it—ouch!"

Hermione had shot out her wand and hexed Ron with the pinching charm.

"What was that for?" he grumbled as he rubbed his ear.

"You weren’t wearing your hat, now were you?" she retorted with a sly smile.

Ron smashed his hat on his head and left the common room. Hermione quickly followed and Harry and Ginny brought up the rear. The two exchanged knowing looks as the couple before them spoke coldly to one another. Harry shook his head. Those two…

"Where are those from?" he asked, motioning at Ginny’s earrings (which had started to do a somewhat demented jig).

"Luna," Ginny answered, "she thought it’d be nice for today."

Harry had to bite down a few remarks.

"You should see what else she wanted to give me," she added, as though reading his mind.

Right on schedule, the quartet entered the cavernous entrance hall and was greeted by a giant shamrock on top of a dirty blonde, wide-eyed Ravenclaw’s head.

"Happy St. Patrick’s Day, Harry," Luna hailed from beneath her giant clover.

"Hey," he replied as Ron and Hermione studied the headgear in disbelief.

"St. Patrick drove snakes out of Ireland with the help of his shamrocks and the green Seamrog Consanta," she motioned at a curious green and black creature barely visible in the center of the clover. "If we ever go to Tipperary, we could round up a band of them and run You-Know-Who out of the country."

Harry laughed appreciatively as he noted the girl’s matching pair of leprechaun earrings. These thoughts were clouded with his blurred future as he remembered his fate. However, knowing that someone besides the Weasley twins could speak lightly about such a thing, truly made his day. Ron and Hermione shook out of their temporary stupor and greeted the unusual (but nevertheless nice) girl. The group of five entered the Great Hall.

"Look, Gin, it’s your earrings!" Ron motioned at the leprechauns skipping around the room. Every inch of it was covered in clovers and green streamers. The usual platters replaced with small golden pots filled to the brim to the excellent food concocted by the school’s tireless house-elves.

"Hey! Hey Potter!"

Harry turned to find Draco Malfoy, a pinch faced blonde Slytherin, decked out in expensive green velvet, sneering over his clover-shaped toast.

"Where’s your Slytherin love?" he shouted.

Harry chose to ignore the other boy, and took a seat at the Gryffindor table. As he started on a plate of clover-shaped toast (with slivers of bacon posing as the stems) and sausages (he had avoided the green eggs since the green-factor made it seem sickening rather than delectable), a flurry of feathers shot through the windows. Owls of all kinds swooped in to deliver wrinkled packages and crinkled letters. Harry paid no mind to the commotion since he usually did not receive anything.

A large tawny owl swooped down and landed next to Harry’s plate. A messily wrapped package was tied just above the bird’s knobby talons. As Ron helped Harry untie the package, the owl disposed a parchment envelope on top of Harry’s toast. It then helped itself to a beakful of pumpkin juice and bits of bacon in a golden pot.

"It’s from Fred and George," Harry read the outside of the envelope in disbelief.

"Oh, sure, send a package to Harry, but not your own brother," Ron muttered darkly. Harry, ignoring the other boy, slit the Weasley Wizard Wheezes seal open with a knife and a short letter fell out.

"‘May your eyes be as green as pickled toads and your hair match the darkness of a blackboard’," he read aloud, angling the bit of parchment in time to find Ginny spit out a mouthful of juice and turn a becoming shade of pink.

He passed the note to Hermione, staring at the package with a furrowed brow. As though it realized it was being watched, the parcel shook and rocked before exploding. The bits of rough brown paper flew up and dispersed. On the table lay a black scarf with a green toad pattern. Harry studied it closely, prepared for anything (after all, it was from the twins) when it came to life and simply wound itself around Harry’s neck.

"Merlin’s beard!" Ron yelped, hopping up from the bench.

Harry looked up at him, "What?" Somehow, Ron had gotten bigger. So had the table. And the bench. The tawny owl stared down at him with curiosity.

That was when he realized what had happened. He let out a yelp of panic as his friends looked at him in horror.

Ron turned to Ginny, "I’m sorry, I was wrong. Harry looks like your earrings."

Hermione had scooped Harry up and quickly left the Great Hall as people continued their morning meal. He had to hang on to the webbing between her thumb and forefinger to keep from falling out of the palm of her hand.

"Now I’m glad Fred and George didn’t send me anything," he heard Ron comment as the four of them flew up several flights of stairs.

"Ron," Ginny sighed in an exasperated manner.

The group clambered through the portrait hole and back into the now deserted common room. Hermione gently disposed Harry onto a cushion. He caught his breath from the unsettling journey, willing his stomach to keep what little breakfast he had had down.

"Should we take him to the Hospital Wing?" Ginny suggested hesitantly.

"No," Ron answered as he glanced at a sheet of parchment "the note says the charm will wear off after three to seven hours."

Hermione grabbed the note and feverishly read the contents.

"Since when did the note say that?" Harry asked in a squeaky, shrill voice as he paced across the squishy pillow.

"Oh, it happened when the scarf tied itself around your neck," Ron answered, gazing at his friend apologetically.

"Figures," Harry muttered under his breath. His friends continued to stare down at him, worried about his physical being. "Hey, look guys, it’s a Hogsmeade weekend and you shouldn’t stay behind because I…I’ve become a leprechaun." His lips twitched as the words left his mouth. A sentence he definitely thought he would never utter.

"No, we’ll stay," Ginny answered quickly and she took a seat on the loveseat. Harry bounced and toppled over the embroidered pillow and grabbed the gold tassels in order to prevent himself from falling into the dark abyss between the cushions. Ginny quickly picked him up by the collar of his green suit jacket, apologizing profusely.

"Or…maybe we could…take Harry with us?" Ron suggested hesitantly.

The girls glared at him.

"No, think about it," Ron spoke quickly. "We can’t do anything here. Harry’s too small to do homework or play chess or Gobstones or anything. And the point of staying behind is to make him feel better. So…why don’t we just take him?"

"Okay, Merlin," Ginny cross her arms, "what do you say we do?"

Ron pointed at the pocket on his shirt. "I’ll carry him around."

"Like you did with Scabbers?" said Hermione.

"Harry?"

"Well…er…" he shrugged. "I dunno. I guess okay since you want to go to Hogsmeade so badly."

Ginny begrudgingly handed Harry to her brother ("I think this leprechaun thing has fried your brains," she muttered to him). Ron slowly lowered Harry into the pocket. When he had settled himself, the crown of his head barely appeared over the lip of the pocket. He hopped up and down, the view sinking in and out of sight with every jump. The shirt jostled and shook.

"What’s going on?" Harry shouted.

"Nothing," replied Ron. The shirt rose and rumbled and Harry fell over, clawing at the fabric for support.

"So, I guess the pocket idea was a dud," stated Ron.

The pocket darkened as something pinched the edge of Harry’s jacket.

"Bad idea! Bad idea!" he shouted.

"Oh, honestly, Ron," said Hermione voice. Light replaced darkness and a wand tip appeared. Harry felt himself shoot up and out of the pocket, hovering in midair, his legs kicking about.

"Now you do look like Ginny’s earrings," Ron said in hopes of lightening the atmosphere.

"Oh, quit with the earring jokes," said Hermione.

"That’s it!" Ginny clapped her hands together in triumph the others turned to regard her. "Harry can pose as one of my earrings!"

A pause.

"Did you have any of that green egg?" Harry asked. "Because I think the side effects of eating colored foods is killing your judgement."

"Can we try, please?" Ginny pled, already taking one of the leprechauns out.

Harry gave in (rather reluctantly) and soon found the collar of his green suit jacket attached to the end of a hook.

"Why do I get the feeling that something’s going to go wrong?" he muttered under his breath.

"Okay Ginny," Hermione nodded.

Up went the hook and so did the collar of his jacket. The higher he was lifted, the higher the collar rose until, finally, it pulled the jacket up to Harry’s nose. He wriggled and swiped at his clothes, attempting to straighten them. However, It was all in vain. Next thing he knew, the fabric gave away and Harry tumbled downward.

"Aaaaahh!" he shouted frantically, his arms flapping back and forth, his legs kicking in all directions as he tried to propel himself upwards from the cold, stone floor.

"Windgardium Leviosa!"

"Aargh!"

Harry bounced off a freckly forearm and soared overhead, glancing back in time to find Ron floating in midair. He then redirected his attention and found that the cushioned loveseat was flying towards him. He balled his body up, preparing for a somewhat rough landing. Then someone shouted, "Accio!"

Ginny stood there with her wand at the ready. An invisible force pulled his body in the direction he had just flown in. His stomach turned and lurched as he shot in the direction of the girl’s open palms. His body shot into the cupped hands, his feet digging into her palms as he fought for a dignified landing.

"What…?" he gasped to regain the breath he had left behind on the hook.

Ginny turned so that the crumpled figure in her hands was facing Ron and Hermione. Apparently, Hermione had used the levitating charm at the exact moment Ron tried to catch Harry. The action resulted in a somewhat catastrophic sequence of events. Having been hit by the spell, Ron shot upwards, causing Harry to ricochet off his forearm and into the cushions of doom (only to be rescued by Ginny’s quick wandwork).

"Never…again," gulped Harry as Hermione set the hovering Ron straight.

Ron, whose clover hat had fallen off during the mishap, swept the hat off the ground, dusted off the clovers with great care, before smashing it back on his head.

"You know, I think you should just go and leave me here," Harry motioned at the portrait door as he shakily got to his feet.

"No," Hermione studied Ron closely. "You can…" she spoke slowly as though developing the idea as she spoke, "you can…sit on Ron’s hat."

The famous boy-who-lived had gone through many difficult things. Yes, lulling three headed dogs to sleep, following spiders, fighting basilisks, participating in the popular sport call Quidditch, entering brutal contests, fighting Death Eaters (and Voldemort)…but never before had he faced such a challenge. It was one thing to fight people who were opposed to him and would not have cared about him as long as he died. This, however was different. His friends pointedly refused to leave him be and let him sulk under his cloud of ‘I hate St. Patrick’s Day’. It was truly irking him.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" he shouted. "Can’t you see I just want to be alone?"

"We just wanted you to come to Hogsmeade with us," Hermione said defensively.

"And find out how much fun days like today really are," Ginny added.

"Yes, but how would you feel if you had to grow up with your stupid fat cousin pinching the hell out of you and having to put up with idiots like Malfoy and then have the twins send you a scarf that turns you into a helpless little leprechaun and then have the three of you put me through all these…these…!"

"Death defying experiences!" Ron shouted triumphantly. "You’re Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle!"

The other three sighed heavily; the sister did so out of impatience and the friends, to hide their amusement.

"C’mon, Ron," Hermione motioned for the red haired boy to come toward her, "give me the hat."

Ron mockingly clutched his hat, speaking in an overly exaggerated tone of horror, "So you can hex me again? Never! HEY!"

Ginny had swiped the hat off with a triumphant hop and tossed it at the bushy haired girl. Hermione quickly busied herself with the crinkled clovers, adjusting them to a formation. With a flick of her wand and whisper of an incantation, tiny green cushions appeared in the center of the patch of dried clovers.

"You can be aSeamrog Consanta," Hermione said, "like the one Luna has."

"Except alive and not from Tipperary," added Ron.

"And," Hermione motioned at a thick string of thread. "I’ve erected a simple mechanism that will prevent you from falling out. What do you think?"

"I think…" Harry studied the hat with amusement. "I think you three are absolutely mad."

A pause.

"But I’ll go along with it since it’s St. Patrick’s Day and…well, what’s a holiday without your friends?" He clambered onto the seat; the thick bit of thread automatically wound itself around the hat and then shot across Harry’s chest at an angle before knotting itself. Ron gave a loud whoop of glee as he, once again, pulled the hat on his head and bounced out the portrait door. The uneven gait was rather unsettling, but Harry soon got used to it as his friends marched down the front steps and off to the nearby village.

The morning was spent in the cold sunshine of the magical village. Shoppers quickly bustled by, mumbling about prices and destinations. Fellow Hogwarts students shot up and down the lanes, grateful for a day away from school. Hours later, after flittering from Zonko’s to the Shrieking Shack to Honeydukes, the quartet met up with friends to head for the pub, the Three Broomsticks.

Neville Longbottom, a rather forgetful young man in Harry’s year, looked at them with curiosity. "Where’s Harry?"

"He’s a Seamrog Consanta for today," Ginny explained smilingly, pointing at Ron’s hat as the group entered the cheery pub, filled with heavy drinkers who were celebrating the festive day.

"A what?"

Harry waved from his seat and pointed at Luna and her clover head. Drinks were ordered and laughs were exchanged (Harry’s mead was delivered via a very long straw that Madam Rosmerta provided).

"Harry, did the shamrocks shrink?" Ginny suddenly asked.

"I…don’t think so…"

Ron checked his watch and immediately whipped his hat off and set it on the table. "Sorry, mate, but I’m not risking my neck for you."

"But you have about thirty other times, though."

"Shut up, Gin."

A bright yellow light flashed. The thread split and everything grew smaller. Cups of mead tipped over and trickled across the table. Harry’s attire morphed from stiff green to a red shirt, jeans, and a dark toad print scarf. He happily hopped off the table and waved the scarf triumphantly. Then…

"My hat!"

He winced as he turned back to find the hat now flattened on the table. All that was left of the clovers was green dust.

"Sorry about that…"

Hermione waved her wand and the hat repaired itself. The shamrocks formed again, this time as healthy, moist ones rather than the dried out ones. Ron thanked her before jamming his hat on his head and doing a very strange jig.

"Now you look like Ginny’s earrings!" Harry and Hermione chanted triumphantly.

Harry laughed heartily and took a seat. "You know, St. Patrick’s Day’s not that bad after all."

Deep green Seamus, who was sitting in the next booth with Dean Thomas and several other Hogwarts students, gave a whoop of jubilation, "It worked!"

The group turned to him, confused.

Seamus whipped around and, before Harry knew what was happening, engulfed Harry in dark green light. His skin was tinted in green, darkening as the seconds went by, until he was the same shade as Ron’s hat. He studied himself in the window of the pub as the raucous drinkers applauded and guffawed.

"I spoke too soon," said Harry with a wide smile.

So, basically, Seamus was the one who convinced the twins to send the scarf to Harry (mainly inspired by the "Seamus told me that Dean heard from Pavarti that Hagrid’s looking for you...")

Thanks to TheSongRemainsTheSame for getting me to finish this fic. Now YOU go read HER St. Patrick’s Day fic (Top O' the Morn' to Ya) and tell her how wonderful it is (though I haven’t gotten around to reading it yet)

Personally, I don’t think the characterizations are right, which really bothers me since I strive to keep them as in character as possible. Any criticism is welcomed here.

About my other fic, His Metamorphmagus, I’m planning on updating it sometime at the beginning of April. If I don’t, you guys all have the right to track me down and hit me over the head with a rusty old pan.

Hope everyone’s ST-mad-raging-leprechauns-PATRICK'S-green-underwear-was-lost-DAY!

Please review!

Chikin Wang  

[paraphernalia_101]

Author:Overhill
Link: Riddikulus

Leprechauns at Hogsmeade Hall



By Overhill





"Miss Granger, stay for a moment, please?" Professor Flitwick asked.



Hermione stopped packing up her books to look over to her teacher, while the rest of the class continued to leave. Ron and Harry gave her puzzled looks, but disappeared quickly into the hallway.



After the crowd left, she went up to the teacher's desk. Professor Flitwick smiled.



"I'm issuing you an invitation to act as a student hostess at the Expiated Leprechaun Convention at Hogsmeade this Saturday. I think you would do a very nice job of it, and would gain a good education seeing 'the little people' close up." The very short man smiled up at her.



She remembered seeing some Leprechauns at the World Cup earlier that year, but not up close, and had not had any opportunity to think about them since.



She'd heard about them before she came to Hogwarts, but that knowledge was as murky as any other magical thing she had known then. She had read about them in her textbooks, they had been mentioned in Professor Lupin's class, and Hagrid had told a story or two about them. She had learned that they were Irish, that they had relatives in Japan and Mexico, and that they were very little, less than a foot tall. Like merpeople, they were classified as "beasts", but were human in appearance and speech. And she'd heard that they had pots of gold stashed around at the ends of rainbows, but she didn't know how true that was.



This would be a perfect time to learn more about them, she thought, and would be a nice break from Harry and Ron's falling-out.



"Mr. Finnigan, and a few other select students will also be in attendance. Mr. Finnigan has done this before, so if you have any questions, you may ask him." The Professor added.



"Yes, I'll do it," Hermione replied.



Seamus Finnigan was in the common room, joking around with Fred and George when she arrived.



He spotted her as she came in the door, and hurried over to her. "Did you accept?" he asked, then without waiting for a reply, said, "I suggested to him that you might like the job." He gave her his broad Irish grin. "I think you'll find it absolutely fascinating."




* * * * *




On Saturday morning rain pounded the castle windows. The ceiling of the Great Hall was dark with clouds and rain that never came below the tops of the windows. Hermione dreaded the walk to the village, but grimly picked up her cloak from the bench and soldiered out to the Great Doors.



There was a small group of seven students waiting there: Cedric Diggory, Seamus Finnigan, a girl from Beauxbaton, a boy from Durmstrang, another boy from Ravenclaw, a girl from Slytherin, and a seventh-year girl from Hufflepuff.



"She's here!" someone shouted.



"She's late," the Slytherin responded.



"I'm early," Hermione protested.



"That you are," Seamus said with a grin. "We just like spending as much time as we can there, so we always gather a bit before time."



"You could have told me," she said with a scowl, as she wrapped her cloak about her.



She then noticed that she was the only one with a cloak, and that the rest were grinning at her. "What?" she asked.



The others made no reply as Cedric and Seamus opened the doors.



Hermione gasped. The sky was blue, bluer than she had ever seen it before, and the grass was green, greener than she could have imagined. As if in a dream, she stepped out onto the almost dried steps and started down the path to the village.



The Forbidden Forest was covered with rainbows, and she thought she could see unicorns playing in its shadows.



"The Little People are here," Seamus said, smiling. Hermione found herself smiling too, for the first time in weeks, she realized. The air smelled wonderful, her heart felt light, and her feet, lighter, as she tripped to the village with the others. Most of the other Hogwarts students were Irish-born, and their brogues got stronger the closer they came to Hogsmeade.



She noticed Cedric walking beside her.



"Please don't mind my asking, but are you Irish-born, too?"



"No, I'm coming to meet my dad. He'll be representing the Ministry," he replied.



"Minister Fudge couldn't make it?" she asked.



"He wasn't invited. The Leprechauns don't like him, but they do like my dad. Anyway, Leprechauns are part of his department."



Hermione noticed that Cedric's voice now had a pleasing lilt to it.



"Leprechauns are classified as 'beasts' in part because they refuse to have any political connections with the Wizarding world. They threatened to cut off the nose of anyone who sticks it where it doesn't belong, namely in their business. He-who-must-not-be-named, it is said, tried to recruit them, and was given that same warning." Cedric explained.



"So why are they in Hogsmeade?" she asked.



"Party time," Cedric said, grinning. "They do love to party."



Some of the students started sneezing. "Why are we sneezing like this?" the Beauxbaton student asked.



"The magic is changing," the Ravenclaw explained. "It's tickling your nose as it gets stronger. You'll get used to it, and the sneezing will stop."



The largest rainbow Hermione had ever seen was arched into the village. Unlike other rainbows, it didn't move as she got closer, but stayed with one end on the roof of Hogsmeade Hall.



Hogsmeade Hall was a large building, built for village gatherings, feasts, concerts, and plays. Music could be heard through its stout walls, and even though it was still morning, light spilled from the windows. Hermione wished that she could sing.



The group went to the back door. Madam Rosmerta was directing deliveries of bottles and kegs; other trades people were delivering foodstuffs. One Leprechaun was standing at the door, dressed in the traditional costume, paying gold galleons out and collecting receipts.



"These are real gold Goblin galleons, aren't they, not the..." one man started to ask, staring doubtfully at the coins.



"The Goblins will get us if they aren't," the wee man replied. "We do our business properly, don't want any cursing from our suppliers. And here's a bit of luck to show that we mean you well," he added as he handed a different coin to the man. "That now, will disappear in a bit, but it'll leave a trace of luck behind as it was given, not stolen." The Leprechaun smiled and nodded, and turned his attention to the next tradesman. The first hefted the coins in his hands as he studied them, and then went off to his pony and cart.



Cedric and Seamus had been watching the whole exchange. "Must have just moved here," said Cedric.



"No, or maybe he's lived in Scotland his whole life," mused Seamus. "They've very shy up there."



"Maybe not everyone has spent his or her whole life around Leprechauns," the Beauxbaton student retorted. "That was a nasty surprise at the World Cup, having the gold disappear as it did."



The Slytherin girl snickered. "Had your life planned out, did you?" she asked in her Irish accent.



The Beauxbaton girl blushed and glared back.



Hermione remembered Ron's shock at the disappearing gold, and said nothing.



"Cedric, where's your father?" the Hufflepuff girl asked in a loud voice, changing the subject.



"He and Mum are probably inside already," Cedric replied. "He always uses a bottle of the best Irish whiskey as a Portkey and presents it to the chief. He'll floo back to the Ministry when he's finished here. St. Mungo's sends a medical team, but I don't know what they use for a Portkey; maybe they come by floo."



"They come by floo," the Ravenclaw replied.



"So are you going to sit with your parents?" she asked.



"No, I'm here to work, but I will get to have a visit with them at lunch," he said with a grin.



A village woman came to the door, wiping her hands on her apron. "Are all of you from Hogwarts then?" she asked. Then, without waiting for an answer, she started issuing orders. "Line up, cross-ways here, so I can get your names and give you your marching orders."



Assignments were given for serving and cleaning, assisting with food preparation, and security. The Ravenclaw reminded her that he was there for the medical team, as he was in training, and got out of bottle washing. The Durmstrang student was reassigned to the job, and did not look thrilled about it.



"Throughout the day, I will rotate the assignments," the woman informed them, "so that you all may have an opportunity to earn tips." The Durmstrang student looked pleased at the news, and joked with the Ravenclaw about tips from the tipsy.



Inside the building the air felt as if it was sparkling with magic.



"Stay away from the tapestry," the supervisor said, pointing to a corner of the room where a large green curtain hung. "The Wee Folk have a basin back behind it, and they've a huge basin of beer that they're using as a sort of bubble bath. And watch out when some of them coming running out. They'll be wearing foam or nothing. Madam Rosmerta will be making sure that the beer doesn't run out there."



Hermione spent an hour putting whipped crème on tiny Irish coffees. For the next hour she was wiping tables and picking up used mugs and dinnerware. Then she had a break, just in time to watch some of the dancers perform their sets, and then it was back to work.



She was kept busy the whole of the day, except for her lunch and breaks, which she spent visiting and laughing with the Leprechauns. They knew her neighborhood, and the house she grew up in, and remembered her when she was a child, before her Hogwarts letter. "Aye, lass, we watch, but we don't meddle," she was informed. "Magic folk are what we are, no matter how the books list us: We are what we are."



"Sing, children, sing!" some of the Leprechauns ordered the students. Four or five or the students complied, and the Leprechauns laughed with delight and applauded.



All day there was music and talk, dancing and romancing among the Leprechauns, and they were free with their tips of Leprechaun gold and free with the advice and stories that they told the Wizarding folk as they served them.



Hagrid came by for a brief visit, sang some songs, drank to their health, and left while he was still steady. Most of the invited wizards and witches, including Mr. and Mrs. Diggory, left after lunch. Finally, only the serving staff, the medical team and the Leprechauns were in the Hall.



Twilight fell, and the party ended. The Leprechauns left, giggling and weaving as they went out the front door and, once outside, vanished into the night. The students helped pack up the tiny tables and clean the hall, and then the villagers bid them and the medical team a hearty goodnight.



Tired but cheerful, the students returned to the castle by wand-light, their pockets full of Leprechaun gold, singing songs that they had heard that day, though they were in the process of forgetting the words. Hermione found it liberating to sing, and sang out joyfully and without restraint.



The group fell quiet at they approached the Great Doors, and entered into the Great Hall, the last to arrive for dinner.



Hermione sat down between Ron and Harry, both who had left her more than enough room. Seamus sat down opposite to her, and the other students went to the other tables.



"Where have you been at today?" Ron demanded to know. "The weather was terrible, and all we could do was stay inside or drown."



"We've been having a grand time today," Seamus answered cheerfully



Ron really does need some cheering up, Hermione thought, and Harry needs some luck. She dipped her hand into her robe's pocket, but the magical gold was already gone.  

[Steffasaurus]

Why the Slytherin House color is Green
By: Me, Stephanie Stingel
Any Slytherin fans it was written in fun, Please don't kill me.

Sit around me, children, and I will tell you a story, the story of how Slytherin's house color became green.

See, Hogwarts was founded by four founders, each using different methods to pick their house colors. Helga Hufflepuff based her house colors of yellow and black on her pet bumble bee Pat. Godric Gryffindor chose gold and maroon because that's what his wife told him to choose. Rowena Ravenclaw dropped her favorite penny into a toilet bowl that had a stay fresh blue tab in it, thus the colors bronze and blue. Salazar Slytherin chose pink because, well, he thought it was pretty.

Now I see you looking at me oddly. You are all thinking Slytherin's house color is not pink. It almost was though.

Salazar lived in a huge scary castle, ominous on approach. The inside was scarier than the outside though. Pink! Everywhere, silk pink curtains, porcelain pink dishes, and yes, children even Puffy Pants his poodle was pink.

The night before the announcement of house colors, Salazar entered his castle happily whistling a tune. Upon entering his living room he shrieked. Green smoke swirled around the room. He stared in terror as he noticed a small man sitting in his favorite furry pink armchair, a bowler tilted to the side of his head. He was garbed in nothing but green.

"So Salazar, where is my money? You know I get cranky when I don't get my green asparagus."

"I thought I had two weeks," stammered Salazar.

"Two days!" The little man bellowed, crushing his green cigar out on the arm of the chair, causing Salazar to go into hysterics. "I gave you two days, you bumbling idiot."

Salazar sobbed. " I spent it on pink cotton candy."

The little man leaped across the room, landing on a candy cane pink table and looked Salazar right in the eye.

"Never deny a leprechaun his money." He grew quiet for a moment and smiled. "Alright Salazar, you owe me nothing..."

"Oh thank you so much." Salazar stammered.

"Hush fool! I'm not done. Instead you will now suffer a worse fate. Your favorite color which is pink, will now be green. If its in your possession it will turn green, when you speak the word pink it will come out as green, and anything you own that is pink will be green."

Salazar hit his knees begging for mercy. The man jumped down from the table and walked over to the fireplace. Before he left the castle he turned to Salazar and spoke words that would haunt Salazar for years.

The day of the founders' announcements arrived and all the founders were gathered. Except for Salazar. He swept in and all the founders gaped at him.

"Wow Salazar, No pink today? Black, are you in mourning?" Godric laughed.

Salazar snapped back. "At least I pick out my own clothes, my wife doesn't dress me." Which shut Godric up.

Helga interrupted. "Can we please not fight guys? Lets make our announcements."

So each founder gave their house colors and why. As they did Salazar sat chewing his nails. Upon his turn he stood and tried to spit out the word.

"P...P... GREEN." He screamed. The other founders gaped again.

Rowena spoke up. "Why Salazar, why green?"

He responded with this statement the leprechaun had left him with,

"Never go all in on a pair of nines against a leprechaun named Lucky."  

[The Stylish Nihilist]

Wearing Green
Written by the Stylish Nihilist
biggrin
------


This fight was one of the worst yet.

Severus hadn't meant it the way it sounded, honest; he just spoke without thinking, like the stupid git he was. And so maybe part of it was Lily - she was overdramatic sometimes - but really, it was his fault he was so insensitive. And stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Merlin, he needed a thesaurus.

Severus doused the last candle in the common room and took a moment to lean against the wall. He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes, but he couldn't blot out the image of Lily's face: her red hair flying, lips tight and pursed in utter disdain, eyes flashing jade out of anger - anger at him. And their conversation had started out so well.

"It's a ridiculous holiday, anyway." Severus said as they exited the greenhouse. He gave a clot of sod sticking to his sleeve a perfunctory flick; Lily sighed in annoyance and brushed it away for him.
"It's not ridiculous," she retorted. "It's charming. And cute. All that green...shouldn't you like it? I mean, it's a holiday celebrating your house colour!"
"The colours of my house don't reflect my preferred palatte," he drawled back at her. "Don't the Americans do something bizarre? Like slapping each other or something?"
"They pinch," she said, turning her glowing eyes upon him. Severus felt faint for a moment. "If you're not wearing green, I mean. Oh, look at Potter. He's being a bloody idiot again."
Of course, he was; tossing a toy Snitch around in the air, leaping to catch it as his sycophantic friends whistled and applauded. But couldn't the fool restrain himself for one second? Severus had Lily's full attention, which was such a rarity this year...
"Well," he said snarkily, going back to the original subject. "Most Americans are Mudbloods so it's no surprise they're so heathen."
Lily snapped around and glared at him; yes, this attention was certainly undivided but not exactly what Severus had wanted. "What did you just say?"
"I -"
"I don't think it's funny to use that - that stupid insult! Especially around me!"
"Lily, that's not what I -"
"It's all I've been hearing from you, Sev! It's because of those people you've been hanging around with!"
Severus drew himself up and said haughtily, "If you don't like my friends, perhaps we shouldn't be seen together."
She compressed and burned, eyes seething, hair sparking, and stomped away. Severus stood still, feeling rather as if a hurricane had made its way through Hogwarts and affected only him.

Later that day, she'd sent him a note: I wish St Patrick had chased ALL the snakes out of England. He didn't have the heart to tell her it was Ireland the saint had been involved with, not England; the tenor of the note still stung. So what was there to do but write back?

Lily, I'm sorry. Sorry sorry sorry. I don't know what else to say. I didn't mean it. Please come back.

On Saint Patrick's Day, she did. She threw her arms around him and apologised in his ear, and he hugged her back and disregarded the sneers and hoots of his housemates. Severus didn't care; this reprieve from the three-day drought of her affection was enough. When they pulled away, he glanced at her eyes and said, almost without thinking, "It wouldn't matter if people wanted to pinch you anyway, you've got built-in green right there," and Lily laughed her beautiful laugh and linked arms with him, and Severus would have been quite willing to do anything for her right then. Even wear green.  

[ARoseLight]

I found the following sweet story on fanfiction.net. I liked the first person narrative, too. I did take out a 2 couple of phrases and one sentence to streamline the story.

Romance: James P. and Lily P.

Lily Loathes Leprechauns
Author: purtyinpink71121
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3444529/1/Lily_Loathes_Leprechauns
Published: 03-17-07



Disclaimer: I don’t own nothing.

XOxoXOxoXOxoXO

“Top o’ the Morning, Lily love,” James Potter says, bounding over to the Gryffindor table and sitting down next to me.

“Go away,” I respond darkly, picking at my green breakfast. In honor of St. Patrick’s day, the house elves thought it would be cute to make all of the food green. I don’t know about you, but to me green eggs were just meant to stay in a children’s book.

“But Lily, aren’t you excited for today?” James asked, as if shocked that I don’t share his bizarre enthusiasm.

“Frankly, it’s hard for me to feel any emotion other than annoyance before 10 o’clock in the morning,” I mutter, stabbing my grass-colored sausage vigorously.

“But it’s Saint Patrick’s day today! I thought you of all people would have some spirit, considering you’re Irish. I’m only 50 percent, and just look at me!” James exclaims. I tear my eyes away from my fascinating food specimens and my eyes widen in shock when I look up at him.

I hadn’t looked at him since he came into the great hall, so I hadn’t had a chance to notice that except for his black uniform robes, he was completely decked out in green. Green shirt underneath. Green socks. Green shoes. Green streaks in his hair. Green book bag. He even temporarily charmed his wand green.

“Isn’t it great?! I worked on it all last night,”he tells me excitedly.

“Why in the world did you do all of that?” I ask in shock.

“Because. Today is Saint Patrick’s Day! It’s my favorite holiday after Christmas,” he says, stuffing a green pancake into his mouth. I wrinkle my nose in disgust as he talks with his mouth open and green bits of food spray all over the table.

“Why?” I ask yet again, having trouble comprehending his excitement.

“I don’t know! It just is!” he says. Does he always have to be so enthusiastic about everything? Although I will admit it is kind of funny.

I shake my head and turn my attention back to my breakfast, James babbling away happily in my ear. I supposed you could say that he and I have been getting along better lately. Actually, you could definitely say that, considering if he were this close to me last year I probably would have cursed his ears off.

Don’t get me wrong, we certainly aren’t going out. But seeing as we are both head students, we have come to a kind of truce. It is kind of nice not getting into an argument every other day.

After James and I both finish our breakfasts, we get up out of our seats and head off towards the Transfiguration classroom. I am certainly ready for another exciting day full of learning! Please note the written sarcasm.

XOxoXOxoXOxoXO

After all of my dreadfully long classes are over, I decide to head up to my dorm and rest for a little while until it’s time for dinner. Then again, I may skip dinner anyway. If I have to shove another piece of green food in my mouth, I think I may just hurl. I can always go to the kitchens later if I get hungry.

When I walk into the head’s dorm, I see James sitting on the couch in front of the fire, reading a book. He looks like he was waiting for me. Great.

“Lily!” He exclaims, closing his book with a sharp snap and standing up.

“What?” I groan unenthusiastically.

“Lily, what is wrong?” he asks. Boy, doesn’t he get right to the point?

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” I respond, crossing my arms moodily and sitting down on the couch he had just gotten up from.

“Oh, come on Lily. You have been snapping at people all day. You’ve been moody, you’ve been quiet, you’ve been brooding... all day long! Why?” He asks. Why does he care, anyway?

“What are you, my mother?” I snap. Okay, so a response like that probably isn’t helping my cause. But what can I say? St. Patrick’s day just puts me in a horrible mood.

“See, that is what I mean!”

Yes, I definitely shouldn’t have said that!

“What is wrong, Lily?”

“I just don’t like St. Patrick’s day. I’ll be over it by tomorrow, I just need a good night’s rest,” I say.

He sighs and sits down next to me on the couch.

“But why don’t you like St. Patrick’s day, Lily? I just want to know,” he said, wrapping a comforting arm around me and fixing me with his gentle gaze.

I return his stare, thinking about whether I should tell him or not. I’ve never told anyone this before.

However, one look at those deep, caring hazel eyes, and I decide to just go for it. What can it hurt, right? Besides, if things don’t go well, I can just cast a memory charm on him and tell him it’s my time of the month. See? No risk.

“Well... I’ve just had some bad St. Patrick’s days in my past. Just some childhood memories that I would rather forget that generally resurface around this time of year,” I say nervously. I expect him to pull his arm away, or tell me that I’m weird, or that he really doesn’t care. But he doesn’t. He just keeps looking at me expectantly, holding me in his muscular arms.

“Like what?” he says when I don’t continue.

“Oh, it’s nothing much... just...hmmphhh,” I say, trailing off and muttering near the end.

“Care to elaborate on that?” he asks with a slight smile.

“My dad just used to... drink a lot when I was little... and he usually went out to bars with his friends on St. Patrick’s day. Something about Irish Pride. I don’t really know...” I say. A troubled look comes on his face, when he hears me say this, and I am suddenly very happy that I have him for a friend. He really is a great guy once you get to know him, with a heart of gold.

“Did he ever... hit you or you sister or anything like that?” James asks, and I can tell that he is almost afraid of the answer.

“No, no no no,” I say, shaking my head. I can feel his body relax slightly in relief.

“He just came home drunk a lot, especially on St. Patrick’s day. And... that’s just a hard thing to experience, especially at such a young age,” I respond, feeling tears well up in my eyes. Oh great, not only am I dumping all of my problems on him, I’m also going to get tear stains on his robes.

“It’s okay Lily,” He murmurs into my hear, comfortingly rubbing my shoulder, “Does he still... you know... do things like that?”

“He’s gotten better as I’ve gotten older. But I think it’s safe to say that even if it was the only day of the year, he would drink on St. Patrick’s Day. Then again, I’m sure that’s not exactly the case either, but you know what I mean,” I tell him. I snuggle a little bit closer to him, and I feel his arms tighten around me. It certainly feels very nice.

“I’m really sorry Lily. I had no idea,” He tells me after a short pause, “And here I was, going on about how great St. Patrick’s day is...” He says, trailing off. I look up at him, smiling slightly.

“It’s okay James, you didn’t know. And at times it actually made me feel a little bit better. Like when you tried to transfigure that desk into a leprechaun during Transfiguration, and it started attacking Sirius,” I say, breaking off into giggles at the memory.

“There’s the smile I’ve grown to love,” he says, laughing along with me. We look at each other again for a few moments before I hesitantly start moving my face towards him, our lips destined to meet at any moment. He closes his eyes, and I do the same, and before long I find our lips crashing into each other.

The kiss was sweet, special, and unlike any I’ve ever had before. There was just something about James that made this kiss phenomenal. We both pull back a little while later, each breathing heavily and staring at the other still.

“Wow,” James says, breaking the silence with a smile. I return his smile gladly. I settle back with my head against his chest, and his arm automatically goes around me once more.

“Thank you James. For, you know, comforting me and everything,” I say, putting my hand on top of his that is resting on my stomach.

“You’re welcome, Lily,” James says. Smile and lean back into him a little bit closer, but he isn’t done talking.

“And thank you,” He says. I frown and turn slightly in his arms to look at him.

“What for?” I ask confusedly.

“For giving me a second chance this year. You really don’t know how happy I am,” James responds. I smile and kiss him again. A short, sweet kiss, but a wonderful kiss all the same.

“You’re welcome, James,” I say, mimicking his previous words.

We continue to sit there for quite some time, James just holding me. I think it’s safe to say that after this year, I’m going to associate a different event with St. Patrick’s day that I had previously. From now on, it’s going to be the day that I finally got together with James Potter, the most wonderful guy in the world.

XOxoXOxoXOxoXO

Aww, so sweet, right? Please don’t forget to VOTE! And have a great green-filled day!  

[LadyHealingHands]

A three way tie, each with 26% of the vote:
1. The Leprechauns Attack at Dawn
2. Why the Slytherin House color is Green
3. Lily Loathes Leprechauns
And the winner is.....

Cerbera Dragon!