(drabble) and now we wait
harry potter. cormac mclaggen. cormac/hermione
308 w, g, written for 100greatsaves 's #1 prompt (question)
It's not that I lack courage.
It started with a mouthful of Doxy eggs; yet many great wizards and Muggles alike have had humble beginnings. To me, it's the result that matters. A mouthful of Doxy won me the admiration and respect of the other guys in my year; it also lost me the chance for our Quidditch team.
It didn't take long till my luck turned again, and it's not difficult to guess who will be remembered as Gryffindor's greatest Keeper. I joined their ranks. They're saved. So you see, it's not that I lack courage; or, for a change, determination.
It's my moody luck.
And another thing - there's a question I'd like to ask, but it keeps morphing; yesterday, it became self-praise. No problem with that. I know what I deserve, and I deserve the best. Today, it became… another bout of self-praise; I rained words upon my target till I thought she might burst. It must be difficult, listening to me and still standing. She should have fainted right away; or, as I mentioned bursting, she should have burst - with pride.
When I finally think I got it, my voice grows steady.
"Hermione -"
She looks decent today. I'm thinking she might have tried to comb her hair.
"I have a question for you."
She's looking at me with that sort of patience you have for half-drowned puppies you feel like rescuing; why shouldn't she? I know I'm cute.
"Would you -"
There. I began. It's so easy, I could do it for the rest of my life.
"-trade places with me so that I can be closer to the fire?"
Hermione's eyebrows fly.
"Congratulations, Cormac. You might ace your saves, but you're a disaster at scores."
With that, she leaves me with my unmouthed question. And February the 14th is in three days.
308 w, g, written for 100greatsaves 's #1 prompt (question)
It's not that I lack courage.
It started with a mouthful of Doxy eggs; yet many great wizards and Muggles alike have had humble beginnings. To me, it's the result that matters. A mouthful of Doxy won me the admiration and respect of the other guys in my year; it also lost me the chance for our Quidditch team.
It didn't take long till my luck turned again, and it's not difficult to guess who will be remembered as Gryffindor's greatest Keeper. I joined their ranks. They're saved. So you see, it's not that I lack courage; or, for a change, determination.
It's my moody luck.
And another thing - there's a question I'd like to ask, but it keeps morphing; yesterday, it became self-praise. No problem with that. I know what I deserve, and I deserve the best. Today, it became… another bout of self-praise; I rained words upon my target till I thought she might burst. It must be difficult, listening to me and still standing. She should have fainted right away; or, as I mentioned bursting, she should have burst - with pride.
When I finally think I got it, my voice grows steady.
"Hermione -"
She looks decent today. I'm thinking she might have tried to comb her hair.
"I have a question for you."
She's looking at me with that sort of patience you have for half-drowned puppies you feel like rescuing; why shouldn't she? I know I'm cute.
"Would you -"
There. I began. It's so easy, I could do it for the rest of my life.
"-trade places with me so that I can be closer to the fire?"
Hermione's eyebrows fly.
"Congratulations, Cormac. You might ace your saves, but you're a disaster at scores."
With that, she leaves me with my unmouthed question. And February the 14th is in three days.