Title: Bumpy ride Word Count: 146 Pairing(s)/Character(s): Hermione/Ron Author Notes: I’m thinking about making this the first part of 3. Okay, I'll add links tomorrow, but my computer is acting up, so I can't link to it, but it's my fills for prompt 19 and 17.
“Hermione, when we first met, I had no idea you would be so important to me. I think I can safely say that you didn’t either,” Ron said, making Hermione snicker. Ron could also hear Harry giggle from behind him.
“Anyway, these past ten years have been a bumpy ride. We’ve fought a lot,” again, there were snickers at this, now not only from Harry and Hermione, but from most of the people at the wedding.
“But that doesn’t matter right now, what matters is that we love each other, and that we’re standing here, getting married. I know I want to love you until the day I die, but I also want to fight you a bit more. I think marriage is perfect for insuring I’ll get to do just that.” Ron finished his speech, or his vows before sliding the ring on Hermione’s finger.
Draco gives her a wary look and twirls two fingers, gesturing her on. Pansy seriously considers telling him to shove it, because it’s not like his love life’s any better, but she resists the urge. At least her love life’s a bit on the exciting side for good reason. Draco just keeps getting thrown over.
Frankly, she despairs of the bent wizards of England, if an arse like Draco’s is still single and not entirely by choice, though she allows he is not without his personality flaws, as well.
He lifts his brows impatiently. Case in point.
“Right. So. Your Weasley. Go on.”
Because he looks a bit better than he had when he’d come over, she doesn’t threaten anything too vile. Because it’s at least partly his fault she even has a Weasley, she even finds a suitably sharp tone, something full of attitude as he’ll be expecting but nothing that might give him the impression he’s legitimately in trouble.
Draco’s looked like arse warmed over lately, like a potion gone sour, and it’s her job as his best friend in the world to cheer him up, even if it is a little at her own expense.
“It’s not like that, I promise,” she says. Can’t quite find the words she needs, because Draco knows how she is around men — around men in general and the ones who chase after her in specific — but this thing with her Weasley, it’s different.
Not like that at all.
“Not like what?” Draco’s so skeptical. She wants to hex his last — Pierre — again for putting that look on his face. “Panse, are you getting soft on me? Fond of a Weasley?”
She’d lie but he’ll see right through it. Bloody bastard always has. “Maybe,” she prevaricates. “But only a little. And only just the one.”
“You’ve found one in that herd? And you’ve let him out of your sight? Merlin, how will you ever find him again?”
She makes a sour face at him. It’s true the Weasleys all have that look about them, that it’s plain to see they’re family at a glance, but they’re not clones of each other. Her one is…like no Weasley she’s ever met. “I have my ways.”
Draco snorts. “Left your mark, have you?” When he laughs, it sounds like he might mean it well. “Well, good on you. One of us should be.”
Oh, yeah, definitely going to hex Pierre next time she’s in France. Draco’s hardly perfect but he’s got his charms. There’s no good reason Pierre couldn’t keep his trousers on.
“Always,” she says, smug as she can.
There’s a moment of silence while their server brings their meals, then another still while they sample. Then, while she’s chewing, Draco says, “No, but seriously, Panse. Taking up with a Weasley? You really think that’s wise?”
She swallows hard, washes it down with her drink. “Ordinarily, no. But this one’s different. He’s…”
“Adopted?” Draco prompts. She scowls at him again. “Right. No. All right, special? Not your average Weasley spawn?” He gives under her scowl this time, puts his hands up in surrender. “Tell me about him, Panse. If he’s good enough to have my best friend all wound up like this, I want to hear all about him.”
Draco doesn’t say if he’s enough to have you considering making friends with Weasleys, but Draco doesn’t have to. They’ve been out of Hogwarts for years now but those house lines are still a decent division, still a touchpoint for social interaction to avoid humiliation or worse.
It’s not been easy, being a Slytherin of her year, and it tends to be worse with people well-aligned with the other side of the fighting. Pansy’s tried to put it all behind her but sometimes, she thinks she’s the only one who has.
By rights, it should be worse with the Weasleys. It has been, when she’s run into the others. But this one, her one, hasn’t been like that at all.
“Well, he works in Hogsmeade,” she starts, chews her lip and wonders how much information she should give. “Owns his own shop there, actually. Sold me the quill that turned your hand green last week, if you can believe it. Said that ought to fix you right up.” Now she’s started, it’s incredibly easy to think of things to say about him, though she thinks maybe she could talk forever without ever really explaining what it is about him she likes so much. “He’s really clever. And lovely. You should have seen him when he thought you’d broken my heart. I had to talk him out of making something to shrivel your balls.” She smiles at the memory, laughs a bit and realizes how that sounds. “Er, I may have been a bit…upset with you when I went in,” she explains. Draco’s staring at her, gobsmacked. “Don’t worry, ducks. I’ve explained. You’re safe.”
“Pansy, do you know your Weasley’s name, by any chance?” Draco asks carefully, which is more annoying than normal, him being gentle with her like he knows things she doesn’t.
“Of course I do,” she says, and she’s nearly sure of it, and Draco only just keeps staring until she juts her chin stubbornly. “It’s Fred. Or George. I’m not sure exactly which, to be honest. He only ever just says Forge, and that’s well enough but it’s not helpful, is it? So I’ve just been calling him Earless.”
Draco sputters. Chokes a bit and makes her pat his back in sympathy. “It’s the Weasley twin?” And fuck, he’s gone all soft and gentle on her now, as though there’s something horrible she doesn’t know. “Oh, Pansy.”
He sounds heartbroken on her account. She’s not the one who found her man shagging a barwitch. “What?”
She sets her napkin aside and everything, drawn short by the look on Draco’s face.
Then he tries to tell her the Weasley she’s found is the only one of a pair to survive the war, as though that’s not been dead obvious from his behaviour, the way he only speaks half-sentences and the way he uses a name that can’t be his own.
She’s not dim, really, and just now, she’s not particularly patient, either.
Not even for Draco trying to look out for her.
“You’re not telling me anything I don’t know,” she snaps, though he is. She’s not sure how or why Draco knows so much about a family he can’t stand, except she supposes he’s had more reason to follow the trials than she has. “You can’t just be happy for me?”
That changes him straight away, swaps that bloody sympathy for something she desperately wants to call impressed. “He means that much to you, does he, your…your Earless?”
And she knows it’s silly, she knows it’s still far too early yet to be sure of anything, but she knows, too, that she’s gone back to the joke shop four times last week, gone without needing anything just to see him, bought all sorts of tricks just because he’s taken time to show her about his store, and she knows maybe it won’t get any further than their ice cream at Fortescue’s and a few shared laughs but she can hope, can’t she?
She’s sure she can. Thinks maybe she’s not entirely imagining the way his face lights up when she comes in, the way he’s hurried through customers just to talk to her, the way he’d closed up for a bit mid-day to take her for that ice cream. The way she watches his mouth and gets all hot and bothered by his smile, or the way he grins wickedly when he makes her laugh.
There’s no way to explain any of that to Draco that won’t maybe start that wretched sympathy up again, only… “He calls me Pants.”
“I’m sorry?” Draco’s gone stiff and odd again, disoriented and hiding it poorly. “I must have heard that wrong.”
“You haven’t.” She can’t hide a bashful, rueful grin then, nor can she hide a flush of heat to her face.
“Pants? Like knickers, Pants?” She nods. Draco whistles. “And you let him?”
“I encourage him, actually. It’s like a pet name or something.”
“Should I ask why?”
“He heard me wrong, I think, when he asked my name. And I tried to correct him but he looked so baffled by it, my parents naming me that, and it was all quite lovely, really. Incredibly sweet.” She’s sure she doesn’t have to remind Draco anything at all about her parents, how fuck-horrible they are or why she’s glad to be rid of them now. She still sees them every now and again but relative to her childhood, it’s divine.
Sweet is not a thing she’d have applied to her life, just isn’t something she’s ever expected to find or find appealing, but with her Earless Weasley, it is. She’s not sure where it’s going, has no guarantees it won’t end in tears and misery like so much else has, but for all she’s promised herself she’ll keep herself in reserve, guard against future heartbreak, she’s found all that slipping away.
Something about him brings it out of her, and hearing herself now, realizing that whatever it is, it’s big enough to be worth telling her best mate, she finds herself surprisingly at peace with it.
“Pants and Earless,” Draco murmurs, draws her out of her own head, and this time, he looks thoughtful, too. “Well, I suppose it might be worse. Might’ve been Weaselby.”
She swipes at his plate with her fork for the sheer cheek of that but show aside, she’s glad of his response. Better than she’s thought she might get, at any rate.
And until he says sincerely, warmly and encouragingly, that he’s looking forward to meeting her Weasley now, Pansy doesn’t even realize she’s been tensing up about it.
She can’t know just then what it’s going to mean, having an Earless in her life, having someone who gets on with Draco nearly as well as she does and who understands the importance of having close mates about, and she has absolutely no way of knowing what’s going to come of the meeting they arrange as they finish lunch, that someday she’ll look back on this moment as the gift it is.
If she’d had any idea how important he’d be, she thinks she might have been more fussed about his name earlier, might have been more fussed about him getting hers right from the start. Thing is, if she had been, he might not be her Earless, she might not be his Pants.
And frankly, as she ages, she can’t imagine her life without either.
Title: I Remember the Days When Author:kitty_fic Rating: G or PG Word Count: 150 Pairing: Severus/Harry Contains: total FLUFF, established relationship, Did I mention fluff? Disclaimer: I own nothing. JK Rowling owns everything. No money is being made by me. Notes: Written for hd_writers April Drabble Day prompts 18 & 24 - 'important to me' quote and acromantula.
Summary: The one in which Harry searches for potions ingredients and finds Severus' romantic side as well...
Harry stepped into the Potions supply cupboard. His eyes raked over the supplies. There were shelves and shelves of them covering every available service, sorted alphabetically and ranging from Acromantula venom to wormwood.
Finally locating what he was looking for, Harry conjured a step stool, climbed atop it and reached up high to grab the needed bottle. Suddenly, he felt a warm body pressed up against his back.
"Do you need help?" Severus purred into his ear as a hand wrapped around Harry's waist to offer extra stabilization.
"Hey." Harry turned to look over his shoulder at his husband. "I remember the days when you would have just as soon pushed me off a much higher ladder than this," he said with a laugh.
"When we first met, I had no idea you would be so important to me."
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no subject
Date: 2012-04-21 11:45 pm (UTC)Word Count: 146
Pairing(s)/Character(s): Hermione/Ron
Author Notes: I’m thinking about making this the first part of 3. Okay, I'll add links tomorrow, but my computer is acting up, so I can't link to it, but it's my fills for prompt 19 and 17.
“Hermione, when we first met, I had no idea you would be so important to me. I think I can safely say that you didn’t either,” Ron said, making Hermione snicker. Ron could also hear Harry giggle from behind him.
“Anyway, these past ten years have been a bumpy ride. We’ve fought a lot,” again, there were snickers at this, now not only from Harry and Hermione, but from most of the people at the wedding.
“But that doesn’t matter right now, what matters is that we love each other, and that we’re standing here, getting married. I know I want to love you until the day I die, but I also want to fight you a bit more. I think marriage is perfect for insuring I’ll get to do just that.” Ron finished his speech, or his vows before sliding the ring on Hermione’s finger.
fill: Pants Parkinson and her Earless, pg, 1/3
Date: 2012-04-22 03:29 am (UTC)Frankly, she despairs of the bent wizards of England, if an arse like Draco’s is still single and not entirely by choice, though she allows he is not without his personality flaws, as well.
He lifts his brows impatiently. Case in point.
“Right. So. Your Weasley. Go on.”
Because he looks a bit better than he had when he’d come over, she doesn’t threaten anything too vile. Because it’s at least partly his fault she even has a Weasley, she even finds a suitably sharp tone, something full of attitude as he’ll be expecting but nothing that might give him the impression he’s legitimately in trouble.
Draco’s looked like arse warmed over lately, like a potion gone sour, and it’s her job as his best friend in the world to cheer him up, even if it is a little at her own expense.
“It’s not like that, I promise,” she says. Can’t quite find the words she needs, because Draco knows how she is around men — around men in general and the ones who chase after her in specific — but this thing with her Weasley, it’s different.
Not like that at all.
“Not like what?” Draco’s so skeptical. She wants to hex his last — Pierre — again for putting that look on his face. “Panse, are you getting soft on me? Fond of a Weasley?”
She’d lie but he’ll see right through it. Bloody bastard always has. “Maybe,” she prevaricates. “But only a little. And only just the one.”
“You’ve found one in that herd? And you’ve let him out of your sight? Merlin, how will you ever find him again?”
She makes a sour face at him. It’s true the Weasleys all have that look about them, that it’s plain to see they’re family at a glance, but they’re not clones of each other. Her one is…like no Weasley she’s ever met. “I have my ways.”
Draco snorts. “Left your mark, have you?” When he laughs, it sounds like he might mean it well. “Well, good on you. One of us should be.”
Oh, yeah, definitely going to hex Pierre next time she’s in France. Draco’s hardly perfect but he’s got his charms. There’s no good reason Pierre couldn’t keep his trousers on.
“Always,” she says, smug as she can.
There’s a moment of silence while their server brings their meals, then another still while they sample. Then, while she’s chewing, Draco says, “No, but seriously, Panse. Taking up with a Weasley? You really think that’s wise?”
She swallows hard, washes it down with her drink. “Ordinarily, no. But this one’s different. He’s…”
“Adopted?” Draco prompts. She scowls at him again. “Right. No. All right, special? Not your average Weasley spawn?” He gives under her scowl this time, puts his hands up in surrender. “Tell me about him, Panse. If he’s good enough to have my best friend all wound up like this, I want to hear all about him.”
Draco doesn’t say if he’s enough to have you considering making friends with Weasleys, but Draco doesn’t have to. They’ve been out of Hogwarts for years now but those house lines are still a decent division, still a touchpoint for social interaction to avoid humiliation or worse.
It’s not been easy, being a Slytherin of her year, and it tends to be worse with people well-aligned with the other side of the fighting. Pansy’s tried to put it all behind her but sometimes, she thinks she’s the only one who has.
By rights, it should be worse with the Weasleys. It has been, when she’s run into the others. But this one, her one, hasn’t been like that at all.
Re: fill: Pants Parkinson and her Earless, pg, 2/3
Date: 2012-04-22 03:30 am (UTC)“Pansy, do you know your Weasley’s name, by any chance?” Draco asks carefully, which is more annoying than normal, him being gentle with her like he knows things she doesn’t.
“Of course I do,” she says, and she’s nearly sure of it, and Draco only just keeps staring until she juts her chin stubbornly. “It’s Fred. Or George. I’m not sure exactly which, to be honest. He only ever just says Forge, and that’s well enough but it’s not helpful, is it? So I’ve just been calling him Earless.”
Draco sputters. Chokes a bit and makes her pat his back in sympathy. “It’s the Weasley twin?” And fuck, he’s gone all soft and gentle on her now, as though there’s something horrible she doesn’t know. “Oh, Pansy.”
He sounds heartbroken on her account. She’s not the one who found her man shagging a barwitch. “What?”
She sets her napkin aside and everything, drawn short by the look on Draco’s face.
Then he tries to tell her the Weasley she’s found is the only one of a pair to survive the war, as though that’s not been dead obvious from his behaviour, the way he only speaks half-sentences and the way he uses a name that can’t be his own.
She’s not dim, really, and just now, she’s not particularly patient, either.
Not even for Draco trying to look out for her.
“You’re not telling me anything I don’t know,” she snaps, though he is. She’s not sure how or why Draco knows so much about a family he can’t stand, except she supposes he’s had more reason to follow the trials than she has. “You can’t just be happy for me?”
That changes him straight away, swaps that bloody sympathy for something she desperately wants to call impressed. “He means that much to you, does he, your…your Earless?”
And she knows it’s silly, she knows it’s still far too early yet to be sure of anything, but she knows, too, that she’s gone back to the joke shop four times last week, gone without needing anything just to see him, bought all sorts of tricks just because he’s taken time to show her about his store, and she knows maybe it won’t get any further than their ice cream at Fortescue’s and a few shared laughs but she can hope, can’t she?
She’s sure she can. Thinks maybe she’s not entirely imagining the way his face lights up when she comes in, the way he’s hurried through customers just to talk to her, the way he’d closed up for a bit mid-day to take her for that ice cream. The way she watches his mouth and gets all hot and bothered by his smile, or the way he grins wickedly when he makes her laugh.
There’s no way to explain any of that to Draco that won’t maybe start that wretched sympathy up again, only… “He calls me Pants.”
Re: fill: Pants Parkinson and her Earless, pg, 3/3
Date: 2012-04-22 03:31 am (UTC)“You haven’t.” She can’t hide a bashful, rueful grin then, nor can she hide a flush of heat to her face.
“Pants? Like knickers, Pants?” She nods. Draco whistles. “And you let him?”
“I encourage him, actually. It’s like a pet name or something.”
“Should I ask why?”
“He heard me wrong, I think, when he asked my name. And I tried to correct him but he looked so baffled by it, my parents naming me that, and it was all quite lovely, really. Incredibly sweet.” She’s sure she doesn’t have to remind Draco anything at all about her parents, how fuck-horrible they are or why she’s glad to be rid of them now. She still sees them every now and again but relative to her childhood, it’s divine.
Sweet is not a thing she’d have applied to her life, just isn’t something she’s ever expected to find or find appealing, but with her Earless Weasley, it is. She’s not sure where it’s going, has no guarantees it won’t end in tears and misery like so much else has, but for all she’s promised herself she’ll keep herself in reserve, guard against future heartbreak, she’s found all that slipping away.
Something about him brings it out of her, and hearing herself now, realizing that whatever it is, it’s big enough to be worth telling her best mate, she finds herself surprisingly at peace with it.
“Pants and Earless,” Draco murmurs, draws her out of her own head, and this time, he looks thoughtful, too. “Well, I suppose it might be worse. Might’ve been Weaselby.”
She swipes at his plate with her fork for the sheer cheek of that but show aside, she’s glad of his response. Better than she’s thought she might get, at any rate.
And until he says sincerely, warmly and encouragingly, that he’s looking forward to meeting her Weasley now, Pansy doesn’t even realize she’s been tensing up about it.
She can’t know just then what it’s going to mean, having an Earless in her life, having someone who gets on with Draco nearly as well as she does and who understands the importance of having close mates about, and she has absolutely no way of knowing what’s going to come of the meeting they arrange as they finish lunch, that someday she’ll look back on this moment as the gift it is.
If she’d had any idea how important he’d be, she thinks she might have been more fussed about his name earlier, might have been more fussed about him getting hers right from the start. Thing is, if she had been, he might not be her Earless, she might not be his Pants.
And frankly, as she ages, she can’t imagine her life without either.
no subject
Date: 2012-04-24 09:59 am (UTC)Author:
Rating: G or PG
Word Count: 150
Pairing: Severus/Harry
Contains: total FLUFF, established relationship, Did I mention fluff?
Disclaimer: I own nothing. JK Rowling owns everything. No money is being made by me.
Notes: Written for
Summary: The one in which Harry searches for potions ingredients and finds Severus' romantic side as well...
Harry stepped into the Potions supply cupboard. His eyes raked over the supplies. There were shelves and shelves of them covering every available service, sorted alphabetically and ranging from Acromantula venom to wormwood.
Finally locating what he was looking for, Harry conjured a step stool, climbed atop it and reached up high to grab the needed bottle. Suddenly, he felt a warm body pressed up against his back.
"Do you need help?" Severus purred into his ear as a hand wrapped around Harry's waist to offer extra stabilization.
"Hey." Harry turned to look over his shoulder at his husband. "I remember the days when you would have just as soon pushed me off a much higher ladder than this," he said with a laugh.
"When we first met, I had no idea you would be so important to me."