A couple of quick things:

1) I have a quite few of these drabbles already done so expect a sudden splurge of updates for this; I'm sorry if your inboxes get spammed with notifications if you're following me.

2) Each of these is pretty different in style, theme, etc, and they are totally unconnected to each other so you do not have to read them all.

3) Reviews would be appreciated, since at least a couple of these are almost certainly going to become full length fics and more may do so if I believe there is enough interest.

4) I take prompts over on Tumblr, though I can't say I'm fast to get to them, so if anyone has something they'd particularly like to see written, you can drop me a message and I'll almost certainly give it a try. I do write canon based drabbles too, and will start a new story to post those over here shortly.

That's it I think, on with the random assortment of ficlets!

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Prompt: Fairytale AU

Rating: T

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'Right then, so you all know what you're doing?' James stopped pacing and looked expectantly at his three closest friends, all of whom were looking back at him with what could only be described as concerned expressions. He raised his eyebrows and lifted his hands in an anxious gesture. 'Well?'

'We know what we're doing James…' Remus began slowly. 'It's just….' He looked at the others for help, and Peter piped up from the corner armchair.

'It's just that we aren't sure this is the best idea you've ever had to be honest.'

'What? It's genius!' James looked genuinely shocked at the very thought that his plan might not be as ingenious as he thought. 'What's wrong with it?'

'Well, for a start one doesn't traditionally begin a relationship by trapping the object of one's affections.' Sirius' voice was a slow drawl, his tone utterly unbothered as he lounged on the padded window seat.

James let out a huff. 'Firstly, our relationship has already begun, at the ball two nights ago if you recall, and it continued on very nicely last night. It's just that I don't think we're going to get much further unless I can make her stay past midnight.'

Peter didn't quite suppress a laugh, and the eyes of all the others turned to him. He swallowed and turned his laughter into a cough. 'Sorry.'

'As I was saying,' James continued witheringly, 'secondly, I'm not trapping her. I just want to stop her from being able to run off again.'

Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. 'James, that is practically the dictionary definition of trapping her.'

'Holy mother of Merlin, will you three shut up about this? I know what I'm doing. Now: what does each of you have to do tonight?' He glowered around at them, arms folded across his chest.

Peter cracked first. 'I'll be by the doors; when she comes in, I'll go down and close the main gates and stay at the gatehouse.'

'I'll be with you.' Sirius rolled his eyes. 'Obviously. Once she's come in and you've gone to ask her to dance, I'll slip out and put a sticking charm on the main staircase.'

'And I'll be running interference with the staff.' Remus sounded very much like he didn't appreciate this particular task. 'And keeping everyone in the ballroom away from the main staircase.'

'Excellent.' James smiled at them all. 'See? We've got everything covered.'

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She was in cream tonight. Layers of light cream silk that fluttered as she walked. He liked it better than the gold or silver of the previous two balls; it made her pale skin more luminous, her red hair more vivid.

He'd seen her the moment she'd stepped foot through the door, as if his eyes had been pulled directly to her by some unknown force, and though he'd never admit it to his friends he'd breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of her making her way into the room. He'd walked straight across the ballroom to her, barely registering the people he passed, not that it mattered; they weren't important.

He'd probably mortally offended whoever he'd been talking to at the time she'd entered – he wasn't even sure who they were now he came to think of it – but Remus would probably smooth things over for him.

Not that James cared very much right now; she was right here in his arms, and they circled the room together through song after song, and the rest of the party was a distant haze.

He could see the green of her eyes behind her mask. He knew the exact shape of her hand in his, and the curve of her waist where his hand rested. He'd memorised the movements of her mouth, the shapes it made as she spoke or laughed.

But he didn't know who she was.

He turned them the other way, and circled them around the floor and off to one side until they were half hidden behind a large drape, and he instantly gripped her waist gently and pulled her towards him.

'Why won't you tell me your name?'

Her face lit up in that smile he'd become unreasonably attached to in the space of three nights. 'Because it's not important.'

'It is to me. I don't know what to call you.'

'Pick one then.'

'I can't. I can't think of one that would describe you.' He couldn't imagine a single name that he could apply to her that wouldn't seem ridiculous.

'That's not what names do.'

'Yours should.'

There was that smile again, fleeting but brilliant and despite his frustrations with her he couldn't help the answering smile that spread across his face.

And then he kissed her, without a thought to propriety, to his good name or hers.

And she kissed him back, her hand sliding up to the back of his neck as they clung to each other behind the hanging drape that concealed them from the rest of the ball.

Then from somewhere in the room the clock struck twelve, and just as he knew she would she stepped out of his embrace and her head spun around to face the clock, the worry etching itself across her face.

He caught her hand as she turned back to him, her features set in an expression of apology.

'Don't. Don't do this.'

'I'm sorry. I have to.'

She ran, and he had to admire her light-footed grace as she rushed between twirling couples towards the double doors of the ballroom. He moved after her as swiftly as he could, but he was hampered by being larger and finding it harder to slip between people; out of the corner of one eye he could see Remus doing a sterling job of keeping everyone's attention away from the fact that the Prince was once again rushing out of his own ball, and he just hoped that his other two friends had done their jobs as well.

She wasn't too far ahead of him; he could just about see the cream silk of her dress shimmering as it caught flickers of candlelight as she ran down the corridor. He was vaguely aware that Remus was catching up behind him, but he paid his friend no attention as he rushed to catch up with her.

He arrived at the top of the grand staircase to find her standing the foot of the stairs, her chest heaving and her eyes enraged as she looked up at him. Her heeled shoes were clutched in one hand, her dress held up by the other, and Sirius lay on the floor on her right, unmoving. James stared at her with horror as she stood over his best friend.

'A sticking charm? A sticking charm!? How dare you?!' A flush rose in her pale cheeks as she raged at him, and though he wanted to move to her something held him in place.

'You have no right! What makes you think you could keep me here against my will? I wish I had never laid eyes on you, you, you…arrogant toerag!'

And with that as her parting shot, she threw one of her shoes at him and stormed out of the doors. He dodged the well-aimed footwear, and it tumbled to rest a few steps down from him. He began to make his way down the stairs, pausing to pick the discarded shoe up, his fingers tracing a pattern over the decorative stones as he descended.

He was aware of Remus coming up behind him as he continued his way down the stairs to Sirius.

'She's magical Remus. She must be. She recognised the sticking charm.'

'The thought had crossed my mind.' Remus pulled his wand out and revived Sirius, who sat bolt upright and stared around.

Seeing James, his confused expression turned into a scowl. 'Your girlfriend…first of all, your girlfriend is magical, and secondly, she has violent tendencies. She stunned me.'

'You let her stun you?' Remus asked, with a much straighter face than James thought he would have managed. Sirius glared up at him.

'It wasn't a question of "letting". I didn't know she was magical until she whipped a wand out from somewhere and broke the sticking charm on the stair. I was a bit gobsmacked to be fair, and besides, I'm not certain about the etiquette of fighting with girls, but I suspect it's not in the handbook of gentlemanly behaviour.'

Remus sighed. 'Well, if she broke the charm and got the jump on you, I'm going to say that there's next to no chance Pete managed to stop her at the gate. I'd better go and see what damage she's done there I suppose.'

He wandered out, leaving James sitting on the bottom step and Sirius still sprawled out on the floor alongside him.

'Now what genius?' Sirius let his head fall back on the floor. 'I think your mother will kill you if you throw another party.'

James sighed. 'I very much doubt that she would come this time.'

'Blown it have you?'

'Maybe.'

James turned the shoe in his hands over and over, his eyes examining the stones, the stitching, the quality of the silk. A smile spread across his face.

'You know Sirius…these are very well made shoes. And very distinctive. I don't think there could be more than one pair of these in the kingdom.'

'James, we're not going to track a girl down using her shoes.'

Sirius opened his eyes and looked up to see his best friend grinning down at him. He spoke loudly and slowly. 'James. We are not going to track a girl down using her shoes.'

'Yes we are.' A cream silk shoe landed on Sirius' stomach, and he sat up to see James' back disappearing down the hallway. His voice echoed back. 'Bring the shoe Sirius!'

'I'll bring the fucking shoe.' Sirius muttered, clutching it to his chest as he staggered to his feet. 'He doesn't need the fucking shoe, he needs his head testing.'

He staggered off down the hallway after his best friend, shaking his head over the ridiculous scheme.

There was no way you could track someone down using their shoe.

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So this is obviously Cinderella, but it's based on an older version of the story, in which Cinderella meets her Prince and runs away from the ball and he throws two more over the following nights in an attempt to see her again. On the third night, after she's run away twice, he has a servant smear tar over the steps and one of her shoes gets stuck rather than falls off. The ending, unsurprisingly, remains the same.

This prompt came from AU Jily week on Tumblr, and lots of other people wrote for that besides me, so if you enjoy Jily drabbles, check out jilyweek /dot/ tumblr /dot/ com