My first fic...
Hulloooo y'all,
So today I went over to my neighbours to chat and found her in her raspberrry patch drowning in berries. So, I, of course being the compassionate neighbour that I am, offered to unload her of some of her crop. Result: I have enough berries in my freezer for about half a year *points to icon*, and have been told to go tomorrow to pick more. Anyhoo, this inspired my first ever fic, or maybe its a drabble, which is un-betaed and took me exactly an hour and a half, and for which I could not come up with a better title than...
Title: Raspberries
Rating: G? PG-13?
Ship: Draco/Hermione
Summary: Draco grumbles...
“Stupid…work not even fit for a house-elf…I cannot believe what I do for this woman!” Draco muttered under his breath. In a squeaky voice, he continued, “Oh, it’ll be fun, she says. Oh, you need to experience Muggle culture she says. Chit doesn’t tell me what we’ll be doing! Hard manual labour is what it is…my hands are mosquito bitten, my shoes are caked in mud, and I’ll definitely have to see the Healer for my back now…”
Hermione came down the row, smiling from under her straw hat. Lips stained red and a blush on her cheeks, she looked positively gorgeous.
“You look positively plebian.”
A knowing smile on her face, Hermione replied “Aww, thank you! Isn’t this fun? How many do you have?”
“How is this fun? Why must we apparate to the other side of the country, put on boots that…ugh…other people have worn, and perform such menial labour, all for something we could get at the local market…”
Looking into his pail, she continued as if he hadn’t said anything “I think we might have enough for me to try making jam! Won’t that be exciting?”
As Hermione continued to talk, Draco tuned her out in order to pout. But really to stare at how pretty she was looking. She prattled on about jam and jars and stewing and…other stuff. Although he should have been trying to convince her to give up her crazed notions, or, when that didn’t succeed, which it never did, fearing for his sanity, years of being married to the witch in front of him had dulled his reactions of trying to apparate far, far away whenever Hermione came up with a new hobby. He knew that the next couple of weeks would see a sweaty, harried Hermione emerging from the kitchens with so called jams that he would have to taste. He mentally scoffed at the thought. Jams came from the store, thank you very much. Whatever concoction she would create would have as much resemblance to jam as bobutor pus.
Since the pout wasn’t working anyways, and as the thought of spreading bobutor pus over toast made him nauseous, he put off anticipating future pain for generating present pleasure.
Bending down, he softly pressed his lips against Hermione’s. Even while kissing him back, she continued to try and talk until he firmly shut her up by deepening the kiss. This was good. No matter how many times they kissed, it never failed to make Draco feel better. Nor to arouse him. He gripped Hermione and slid a mosquito-bitten hand to the small of her back, nipping on her lower lip before letting his tongue tangle with hers again. After a few minutes of increasingly frantic snogging, Draco pulled up for a breath of air and rested his forehead against hers.
“So if you have enough berries, does that mean we can leave now?”
Opening her eyes, Hermione smirked to see the look of arousal battling with pleading on Draco’s face. “You want to go home?”
“Yeeeeesssss” Draco whined.
“Well, I’m ready to go, but you’ll have to convince the others”
Draco looked over to where she was pointing to see a blonde middle-aged couple feeding each other raspberries that they had picked. The lovesick expressions on their faces as they shared the berries and then proceeded to taste them off of each others lips made Draco want to throw something at them. They were soon bowled over by two little girls, both with bushy hair. One a blonde, the other a brunette, they jumped on their grandparents chattering about how many berries they had picked and how many more they had eaten. The state of their previously very pretty dresses was a testament to that. Strolling leisurely along hand in hand behind the girls and carrying their pails was another couple, this time both with chocolate brown hair. The two couples gathered up the grandkids, the assorted pails and hats, and turned to look their way.
Draco sighed. He could see from their collective expressions that raspberry picking was not over for the day. As much as he wanted to leave, Draco couldn’t deny the puppy dog looks the girls, hell, even Hermione and his own parents, were giving them. Fine. Let them pick their stupid berries. But he wasn’t going to be happy about it.
He even said as much.
“Fine. Let them pick their stupid berries. But I’m not going to be happy about it”
Hermione gave the group a wave to signal they could continue and then turned to look up at her husband with a wicked grin.
“Aww poor baby. Is there anything I can do to make you happy then?”
Draco smiled at the shrieks of laughter coming from the group. Then he turned and smirked down at his wife. Pulling off her straw hat, he swooped down to meet her.
Maybe it was a lot of work, but as he tasted the tartness of her tongue, Draco thought there was something to be said about raspberry picking.
A/N: Please, please, please review! Leave critiques, tell me it sucked (and why), point out mistakes, whatever! Just give me feedback!
So today I went over to my neighbours to chat and found her in her raspberrry patch drowning in berries. So, I, of course being the compassionate neighbour that I am, offered to unload her of some of her crop. Result: I have enough berries in my freezer for about half a year *points to icon*, and have been told to go tomorrow to pick more. Anyhoo, this inspired my first ever fic, or maybe its a drabble, which is un-betaed and took me exactly an hour and a half, and for which I could not come up with a better title than...
Title: Raspberries
Rating: G? PG-13?
Ship: Draco/Hermione
Summary: Draco grumbles...
“Stupid…work not even fit for a house-elf…I cannot believe what I do for this woman!” Draco muttered under his breath. In a squeaky voice, he continued, “Oh, it’ll be fun, she says. Oh, you need to experience Muggle culture she says. Chit doesn’t tell me what we’ll be doing! Hard manual labour is what it is…my hands are mosquito bitten, my shoes are caked in mud, and I’ll definitely have to see the Healer for my back now…”
Hermione came down the row, smiling from under her straw hat. Lips stained red and a blush on her cheeks, she looked positively gorgeous.
“You look positively plebian.”
A knowing smile on her face, Hermione replied “Aww, thank you! Isn’t this fun? How many do you have?”
“How is this fun? Why must we apparate to the other side of the country, put on boots that…ugh…other people have worn, and perform such menial labour, all for something we could get at the local market…”
Looking into his pail, she continued as if he hadn’t said anything “I think we might have enough for me to try making jam! Won’t that be exciting?”
As Hermione continued to talk, Draco tuned her out in order to pout. But really to stare at how pretty she was looking. She prattled on about jam and jars and stewing and…other stuff. Although he should have been trying to convince her to give up her crazed notions, or, when that didn’t succeed, which it never did, fearing for his sanity, years of being married to the witch in front of him had dulled his reactions of trying to apparate far, far away whenever Hermione came up with a new hobby. He knew that the next couple of weeks would see a sweaty, harried Hermione emerging from the kitchens with so called jams that he would have to taste. He mentally scoffed at the thought. Jams came from the store, thank you very much. Whatever concoction she would create would have as much resemblance to jam as bobutor pus.
Since the pout wasn’t working anyways, and as the thought of spreading bobutor pus over toast made him nauseous, he put off anticipating future pain for generating present pleasure.
Bending down, he softly pressed his lips against Hermione’s. Even while kissing him back, she continued to try and talk until he firmly shut her up by deepening the kiss. This was good. No matter how many times they kissed, it never failed to make Draco feel better. Nor to arouse him. He gripped Hermione and slid a mosquito-bitten hand to the small of her back, nipping on her lower lip before letting his tongue tangle with hers again. After a few minutes of increasingly frantic snogging, Draco pulled up for a breath of air and rested his forehead against hers.
“So if you have enough berries, does that mean we can leave now?”
Opening her eyes, Hermione smirked to see the look of arousal battling with pleading on Draco’s face. “You want to go home?”
“Yeeeeesssss” Draco whined.
“Well, I’m ready to go, but you’ll have to convince the others”
Draco looked over to where she was pointing to see a blonde middle-aged couple feeding each other raspberries that they had picked. The lovesick expressions on their faces as they shared the berries and then proceeded to taste them off of each others lips made Draco want to throw something at them. They were soon bowled over by two little girls, both with bushy hair. One a blonde, the other a brunette, they jumped on their grandparents chattering about how many berries they had picked and how many more they had eaten. The state of their previously very pretty dresses was a testament to that. Strolling leisurely along hand in hand behind the girls and carrying their pails was another couple, this time both with chocolate brown hair. The two couples gathered up the grandkids, the assorted pails and hats, and turned to look their way.
Draco sighed. He could see from their collective expressions that raspberry picking was not over for the day. As much as he wanted to leave, Draco couldn’t deny the puppy dog looks the girls, hell, even Hermione and his own parents, were giving them. Fine. Let them pick their stupid berries. But he wasn’t going to be happy about it.
He even said as much.
“Fine. Let them pick their stupid berries. But I’m not going to be happy about it”
Hermione gave the group a wave to signal they could continue and then turned to look up at her husband with a wicked grin.
“Aww poor baby. Is there anything I can do to make you happy then?”
Draco smiled at the shrieks of laughter coming from the group. Then he turned and smirked down at his wife. Pulling off her straw hat, he swooped down to meet her.
Maybe it was a lot of work, but as he tasted the tartness of her tongue, Draco thought there was something to be said about raspberry picking.
A/N: Please, please, please review! Leave critiques, tell me it sucked (and why), point out mistakes, whatever! Just give me feedback!