FIC: On a Day Like Today
Title: On A Day Like Today
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Justin/Terry
Length: 525 words
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: I saw you were sick / And tired of my wrong turns
Additional Notes: Posted for siobhanohare, who wrote this for me. F-locked, unfortunately. S, eep. There is much guilt now, especially after having read THAT. Also, I <3 Terry/Justin.
Edit: For fanfic100, for the prompt Days.
Justin had read his palm once, back in seventh year, and told him he'd end up leading a fairly normal, generally happy life. And it had been true, to a point.
Well, he had a nice job, didn't he? He was the top Arithmantic researcher in the private company he worked for, well respected though he hasn't discovered anything particularly brilliant like the thirteenth use of dragon's blood or anything. Good enough, at least, and he couldn't say he hadn't seen it coming--he'd been second best at Arithmancy all through Hogwarts, after all, and Hermione had never considered Arithmancy once the war rolled round and the Order began recruiting people anyway.
He was fairly healthy, also, except for that incident during the war, but Justin had warned him about a serious injury. Very few people got through the war unscathed anyway, and he was really quite lucky to have had only that one time, and at least he managed with his family intact.
For the most part, at least, Terry had no qualms about anything. He was content enough with what he had, and he really didn't always think about what he didn't have, just that, well.
It was days like today, is all.
It was never any particular type of day, really. The sun didn't have to hide or the wind didn't have to blow a specific sort of way and it never stayed still in one season or anything. Days like today caught Terry off-guard, like a fly that went about its business until it came across a spiderweb it hadn't known was there. It was a terrible analogy, but that was the best way Terry could think of, when he thought of days like this.
He'd just been in Hogsmeade, accompanying his sister Frances while she did her Christmas shopping - he'd done his back in October, before the rush even began - and admiring the decorations and tugging his coat tightly around himself when he passed by Madam Puddifoot's, and consequently, the alley in which he'd been snogged by one Justin Finch-Fletchley.
Terry knew then he'd never be able to really - he'd never be able to get anything more from Justin besides what Justin could pay him five minutes of attention for. That he was right in not expecting anything and wrong in hoping for something anyway, when he'd tapped Justin's shoulder in concern and Justin had pushed him against the alley and pressed soft (always soft) lips against his own, fists clutching at Terry's shirt and angry tears rolling down his cheeks to Terry's.
Justin had told Terry he'd fall in love and he'd be happy spending his life with whoever he ended up loving, but Terry supposed Justin really couldn't see very far into the future to know about the rest of Terry's life.
Days like this reminded him of that, that was all.
He glanced briefly into Madam Puddifoot's window, and through the snow in the ledge and the fog that had formed he thought he saw what Justin saw then - Zacharias Smith leaning in to kiss some girl whose place Justin could never take.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Justin/Terry
Length: 525 words
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Summary: I saw you were sick / And tired of my wrong turns
Additional Notes: Posted for siobhanohare, who wrote this for me. F-locked, unfortunately. S, eep. There is much guilt now, especially after having read THAT. Also, I <3 Terry/Justin.
Edit: For fanfic100, for the prompt Days.
Justin had read his palm once, back in seventh year, and told him he'd end up leading a fairly normal, generally happy life. And it had been true, to a point.
Well, he had a nice job, didn't he? He was the top Arithmantic researcher in the private company he worked for, well respected though he hasn't discovered anything particularly brilliant like the thirteenth use of dragon's blood or anything. Good enough, at least, and he couldn't say he hadn't seen it coming--he'd been second best at Arithmancy all through Hogwarts, after all, and Hermione had never considered Arithmancy once the war rolled round and the Order began recruiting people anyway.
He was fairly healthy, also, except for that incident during the war, but Justin had warned him about a serious injury. Very few people got through the war unscathed anyway, and he was really quite lucky to have had only that one time, and at least he managed with his family intact.
For the most part, at least, Terry had no qualms about anything. He was content enough with what he had, and he really didn't always think about what he didn't have, just that, well.
It was days like today, is all.
It was never any particular type of day, really. The sun didn't have to hide or the wind didn't have to blow a specific sort of way and it never stayed still in one season or anything. Days like today caught Terry off-guard, like a fly that went about its business until it came across a spiderweb it hadn't known was there. It was a terrible analogy, but that was the best way Terry could think of, when he thought of days like this.
He'd just been in Hogsmeade, accompanying his sister Frances while she did her Christmas shopping - he'd done his back in October, before the rush even began - and admiring the decorations and tugging his coat tightly around himself when he passed by Madam Puddifoot's, and consequently, the alley in which he'd been snogged by one Justin Finch-Fletchley.
Terry knew then he'd never be able to really - he'd never be able to get anything more from Justin besides what Justin could pay him five minutes of attention for. That he was right in not expecting anything and wrong in hoping for something anyway, when he'd tapped Justin's shoulder in concern and Justin had pushed him against the alley and pressed soft (always soft) lips against his own, fists clutching at Terry's shirt and angry tears rolling down his cheeks to Terry's.
Justin had told Terry he'd fall in love and he'd be happy spending his life with whoever he ended up loving, but Terry supposed Justin really couldn't see very far into the future to know about the rest of Terry's life.
Days like this reminded him of that, that was all.
He glanced briefly into Madam Puddifoot's window, and through the snow in the ledge and the fog that had formed he thought he saw what Justin saw then - Zacharias Smith leaning in to kiss some girl whose place Justin could never take.