Drabble: Nothing Says It Better Than (Harry/Ron)
Sorry about spamming, people. XP I just want to finish this all before Christmas Day ends here. :P Just, um, two or three more to go after this, I swear!
Title: Nothing Says It Better Than
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Length: 200 words
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: Harry, Ron, and fruitcake
Additional Notes: For gutterqueen, who is in Sweden right now. Hope you had a lovely time!
"So," Harry's voice broke through the silence finally.
"So," Ron echoed.
Harry glanced at him, eyebrow raised and a questioning look on his face. "Well?"
Ron shrugged, hands digging into the pockets of his trousers, lips forming a thoughtful sort of pout that made Harry want to screw the dilemma and just, well, screw Ron. "I dunno, really."
"Neither do I."
"I mean, I like fruitcake, you know, it's just that--"
"Like when Molly's jumpers started pouring in by the dozens--"
"And it's good at first, really, it's delicious and everything--"
"But then it gets kind of old after a while--"
"Especially when there's three dozen of them at last count--"
An owl flew over their heads then, coming in from the open window of their decently-decorated-for-the-holidays, medium-sized flat in downtown London, and dropped a Christmas-wrapped package onto Harry's feet. He picked it up and flipped the card open.
"'To Harry and Ron: Happy Christmas and Congratulations. Love from Hermione and Viktor. PS: Real gift to come later, when you both come over for dinner. You must be there or else.'" Harry read aloud, grinning sheepishly at Ron's expression. "Make that three dozen and one."
Title: Nothing Says It Better Than
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Harry/Ron
Length: 200 words
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: Harry, Ron, and fruitcake
Additional Notes: For gutterqueen, who is in Sweden right now. Hope you had a lovely time!
"So," Harry's voice broke through the silence finally.
"So," Ron echoed.
Harry glanced at him, eyebrow raised and a questioning look on his face. "Well?"
Ron shrugged, hands digging into the pockets of his trousers, lips forming a thoughtful sort of pout that made Harry want to screw the dilemma and just, well, screw Ron. "I dunno, really."
"Neither do I."
"I mean, I like fruitcake, you know, it's just that--"
"Like when Molly's jumpers started pouring in by the dozens--"
"And it's good at first, really, it's delicious and everything--"
"But then it gets kind of old after a while--"
"Especially when there's three dozen of them at last count--"
An owl flew over their heads then, coming in from the open window of their decently-decorated-for-the-holidays, medium-sized flat in downtown London, and dropped a Christmas-wrapped package onto Harry's feet. He picked it up and flipped the card open.
"'To Harry and Ron: Happy Christmas and Congratulations. Love from Hermione and Viktor. PS: Real gift to come later, when you both come over for dinner. You must be there or else.'" Harry read aloud, grinning sheepishly at Ron's expression. "Make that three dozen and one."