Creative Outlet: The Oneshot

I've always had some difficulty finishing long-term projects.  Perhaps I lose interest too quickly to seriously sit down an write a novel-length story.  Or maybe I'm inspired too often to start something new, and the temptation is too great to ignore.  It could also be both.  That's why I find the Oneshot so intriguing. 

Very similar to the short story, a Oneshot generally focuses on one character or idea and it translates into one complete chapter.  As far as I know, it's primarily a term used in Fanfiction and gives writers a chance to test strange pairings or premises with the target audience. 

Currently, I have multiple Oneshots in the works.  It's a nice change from the multi-chapter stories I'm slowly working through.  And I've always liked to dabble in other fandoms without the commitment of finishing 20-some chapters before such and such. 

Here's a snippet from a work-in-progress: 

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Harry Potter
Characters: Lucius Malfoy/Luna Lovegood 
Working Title: Freelancing

He hadn't made a habit of visiting Flourish and Blotts on a regular basis, although the intrigue of adding to his already burgeoning library at the Manor had lured him into the cramped store.  With the defeat of the Dark Lord, the Wizarding World as a whole had become more accepting of Muggle culture, and the tiny shop was no exception.  The usual mess of disorganized piles that littered the hardwood floors had been retrieved and cataloged on endless rows of additional shelving, making way for new tomes from the foreign world of magic-less creatures.

Hadn't that Granger chit taken over the place? 

The teeming shelves were situated too closely to accommodate Lucius Malfoy's broad physique, so he strode on partially sidewise, twisting his torso so not to dislodge novels from their seating.  It was certainly uncomfortable, and if he'd wished to make a scene on that chilled morning, he would have sought out the Muggle-born child and explained as much to her. 

"Good morning, Mr. Malfoy."

Lucius's awkward positioning through the stacks had caused him to lose sight of those much shorter in stature, and he felt his forearm brush against something quite warm and soft.  He looked down.  It was that Quibbler editor's daughter. 

"May I help you find something?"

Luna.  He remembered that face.  It often peered at him from the darkness of his cellar, a memory he had tried repeatedly to forget.  It was gaunt then, her face.  Supremely white and shadow.  He didn't wish to admit any relief at the current roundness of her cheeks.  "Good morning, Miss… Lovegood – is it?"

Lucius watched her pause.  Perhaps she was considering his attempt at placing a distance between them, pretending they were strangers.  Or she had forgotten her own name entirely.  Draco had always said she was rather daft.   

The bright, almost vacant light of her eyes could give that impression.  Not to mention the soft lilt in which she spoke, as if caught in a consecutive dream sequence.  It was possible that he had been ignoring her for longer than was proper, but she gave no indication of feeling slighted.    

She exhaled lightly before smiling.  "Yes, you have it exactly."