I F***ing Do!
Title: I F***ing Do!
Team: Burning Budgies.
Word Count: 100 x 11
Rating: M (language :D)
Characters: Hermione, Severus, The Malfoys
Author's Notes: Nothing belongs to me, unfortunately.
Many thanks to ALL the harpies who collectively helped me edit this, particularly Camillo, Buzzy and Dickie. Thanks ladies!
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
“Merlin’s cravat, Narcissa! She’s a Mudblood!”
Narcissa looked over her copy of the Tattler, eyeing her husband with boredom. “I’m aware.”
“What was that great son of a harpy thinking?”
“Possibly that it’s time for him to settle down?” Narcissa suggested. About time, too.
Lucius stopped pacing abruptly, staring at his wife. “You mean you don’t care?”
She closed the tabloid with mild irritation. “Frankly, Lucius, no. Severus has had very little happiness in these past few years. Try to actually be happy for your best friend instead of pretending, you sodding excuse for a wizard.”
That shut him up.
& & &
“So I was thinking, why not hold a little engagement party for the happy couple?”
Draco, sitting across the lounge reading the Daily Prophet, almost visibly pricked his ears up in interest.
“Four hundred, maybe five hundred guests. Nothing too elaborate, you know.”
Draco snorted. Aphrodite’s arsehole. She does have screwed up perceptions.
“Mother, somehow I don’t see Severus and the Mudbl-and Granger being too thrilled about having a ball here. They’re already trying to castrate whoever spilled the beans on them.”
“Don’t be silly. They’ll just love it. I’ll invite everyone.”
Draco sighed. Time for some godson-ly intervention.
& & &
“She’s planning to do what?” Hermione and Severus shouted simultaneously.
Draco winced. He’d had a feeling this would happen.
“I don’t think you’ll be able to dissuade her this time, Uncle Severus,” he told his godfather gravely.
“Damn that hag to the Nine Levels of Hell!” Hermione cried incredulously, then blushed. “Sorry, I-”
He waved a hand. “Don’t stress over it, Granger. You’ve got more things to worry about than insulting my mother.”
She smiled back somewhat uncertainly, then noticed Severus’ delighted smirk, figuring it was the closest to a smile she would get right now.
Hermione beamed.
& & &
“No, I said cream coloured table cloths, not vanilla! Don’t those insipid, fuckwitted, dead-brained banshees know anything? Oh, hello Severus.”
Severus eyed the ballroom with sinking hope. She’d already redone the whole thing in shades of vanilla-no, cream, as well as beige, gold and silver.
“Narcissa, I-”
“Oh, no need to thank me, Severus. Really.”
“But Narcissa, list-”
“Do you think Hermione would prefer red drapes? Green wouldn’t go very well, you know.”
“Narcissa!”
“No need to shout, Severus, the echo in the ballroom is really quite enou-”
“Listen to me, you supercilious fishwife!” Severus bellowed.
& & &
Narcissa pouted. “Really, Severus, was that necessary?”
Severus flared his nostrils and counted to ten, very, very slowly. Elitist, conceited, fiscal, snobby, blue-blooded socialite. “Hermione and I… would prefer that you did not waste the time, effort and money on us. We would much rather a small, intimate engagement party. Malfoy Manor would be a little too… extravagant for our tastes.”
Narcissa turned her large, cornflower-blue eyes on him, seemingly damper than they’d been two seconds ago. “Severus, you won’t let me host your wedding here. How on earth will I repay you for saving my son’s life?”
Severus sighed.
& & &
“Since you’re here, why don’t you help me pick out which colour I should use for the cards and envelopes?” She indicated four separate examples on the small table beside them.
Severus looked at the four identical envelopes, blinking. “They’re all white.”
Narcissa rolled her eyes. “That one on the far left is almond, then ivory, cream, and that’s linen white on the right.”
He tried, really. But they were all white.
He threw his hands up in disgust. “Bastet’s bloody, battered bones! I give up. Do what you want!”
“Saturday, Severus! Don’t be late!” Narcissa called after him cheerfully.
& & &
Severus Apparated into the kitchen to find Hermione chopping up meat with a cleaver. She screamed, brandishing the lethal weapon. Then she realised it was Severus, and put it down with a sigh of relief.
“Bloody fucking hell! You could’ve killed me!” He eyed the cleaver warily.
“Sorry, Severus. It’s just, I’m sure I saw a beetle on the basil plant. It disappeared a second later. I can’t help but be jumpy.”
He gave her that much.
“So, you talked Mrs Malfoy out of it, right?”
“Er, about that.” He explained.
Needless to say, she did not take it well.
& & &
“Nimue’s nappies, Severus! How the fuck do you expect me to even step foot there again after… after.. after everything? I swore never to set foot in that fucking hellhole again! Never, Severus!”
Severus sighed. ‘Screw all that, Hermione. This isn’t about our past and dark and light. The Dark Lord is dead, bastard that he was. We’re still alive. They’re still alive. Shouldn’t we celebrate that?”
She dropped the cleaver and sank down into a kitchen chair. “You weren’t there, Severus. I-I-there are still nightmares, demons I can’t face. Don’t make me do it Severus. Please, please don’t.”
& & &
Severus regarded his fiancee. Sat down, she was small but still defiant.
“You’re the strongest woman I know, Hermione. Bastet’s bollocks, I wouldn’t be marrying you otherwise. You have to do this. You can’t hide forever.”
“Severus-”
“Please, Hermione.”
She had tears in her eyes. It pulled at his heartstrings, knowing he had put them there.
Severus knelt down so that he was eye-level with her. “Hermione. Merlin, woman, I love you. I won’t let anyone hurt you, now or ever. You’ll be safe with me. I promise you that, Hermione.”
“Oh, Severus,” she sighed, and he kissed her.
& & &
“That’s why she won’t come? Merlin’s pearls, but that’s simply out of the question.” Narcissa sniffed, affronted. “One simply does not speak of such things.”
Draco sighed. This would take a while. “Mother, you can’t blame her. Even I can’t remember that day without having nightmares. Although I don’t care that much about Granger, I can understand where it comes from.” He had an unusually serious expression.
Narcissa flicked an imaginary piece of lint off of her glove. “Well, that’s too bad. I’ve already sent out the invitations. She will simply have to face her demons, by Dionysus.”
& & &
Eventually, she agreed to go. It had taken much emotion, words of comfort and, of course, sex.
However, Hermione refused to let Severus off lightly.
He was massaging her as ‘punishment’.
Severus sighed contentedly. If only all punishments involved naked Gryffindors moaning underneath hi-
“Severus! Pay attention!”
Oh well.
Then a thought occurred to him. “Hermione?”
She sighed with pleasure. He took that as a ‘yes’.
“You do realise that all the Hogwarts staff will be there, right?”
She groaned. He distinctly heard “Fucky fucking fuckity fuck”, muffled by the pillow.
He had a feeling it wasn’t out of pleasure.
Next Chapter!
Team: Burning Budgies.
Word Count: 100 x 11
Rating: M (language :D)
Characters: Hermione, Severus, The Malfoys
Author's Notes: Nothing belongs to me, unfortunately.
Many thanks to ALL the harpies who collectively helped me edit this, particularly Camillo, Buzzy and Dickie. Thanks ladies!
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
“Merlin’s cravat, Narcissa! She’s a Mudblood!”
Narcissa looked over her copy of the Tattler, eyeing her husband with boredom. “I’m aware.”
“What was that great son of a harpy thinking?”
“Possibly that it’s time for him to settle down?” Narcissa suggested. About time, too.
Lucius stopped pacing abruptly, staring at his wife. “You mean you don’t care?”
She closed the tabloid with mild irritation. “Frankly, Lucius, no. Severus has had very little happiness in these past few years. Try to actually be happy for your best friend instead of pretending, you sodding excuse for a wizard.”
That shut him up.
& & &
“So I was thinking, why not hold a little engagement party for the happy couple?”
Draco, sitting across the lounge reading the Daily Prophet, almost visibly pricked his ears up in interest.
“Four hundred, maybe five hundred guests. Nothing too elaborate, you know.”
Draco snorted. Aphrodite’s arsehole. She does have screwed up perceptions.
“Mother, somehow I don’t see Severus and the Mudbl-and Granger being too thrilled about having a ball here. They’re already trying to castrate whoever spilled the beans on them.”
“Don’t be silly. They’ll just love it. I’ll invite everyone.”
Draco sighed. Time for some godson-ly intervention.
& & &
“She’s planning to do what?” Hermione and Severus shouted simultaneously.
Draco winced. He’d had a feeling this would happen.
“I don’t think you’ll be able to dissuade her this time, Uncle Severus,” he told his godfather gravely.
“Damn that hag to the Nine Levels of Hell!” Hermione cried incredulously, then blushed. “Sorry, I-”
He waved a hand. “Don’t stress over it, Granger. You’ve got more things to worry about than insulting my mother.”
She smiled back somewhat uncertainly, then noticed Severus’ delighted smirk, figuring it was the closest to a smile she would get right now.
Hermione beamed.
& & &
“No, I said cream coloured table cloths, not vanilla! Don’t those insipid, fuckwitted, dead-brained banshees know anything? Oh, hello Severus.”
Severus eyed the ballroom with sinking hope. She’d already redone the whole thing in shades of vanilla-no, cream, as well as beige, gold and silver.
“Narcissa, I-”
“Oh, no need to thank me, Severus. Really.”
“But Narcissa, list-”
“Do you think Hermione would prefer red drapes? Green wouldn’t go very well, you know.”
“Narcissa!”
“No need to shout, Severus, the echo in the ballroom is really quite enou-”
“Listen to me, you supercilious fishwife!” Severus bellowed.
& & &
Narcissa pouted. “Really, Severus, was that necessary?”
Severus flared his nostrils and counted to ten, very, very slowly. Elitist, conceited, fiscal, snobby, blue-blooded socialite. “Hermione and I… would prefer that you did not waste the time, effort and money on us. We would much rather a small, intimate engagement party. Malfoy Manor would be a little too… extravagant for our tastes.”
Narcissa turned her large, cornflower-blue eyes on him, seemingly damper than they’d been two seconds ago. “Severus, you won’t let me host your wedding here. How on earth will I repay you for saving my son’s life?”
Severus sighed.
& & &
“Since you’re here, why don’t you help me pick out which colour I should use for the cards and envelopes?” She indicated four separate examples on the small table beside them.
Severus looked at the four identical envelopes, blinking. “They’re all white.”
Narcissa rolled her eyes. “That one on the far left is almond, then ivory, cream, and that’s linen white on the right.”
He tried, really. But they were all white.
He threw his hands up in disgust. “Bastet’s bloody, battered bones! I give up. Do what you want!”
“Saturday, Severus! Don’t be late!” Narcissa called after him cheerfully.
& & &
Severus Apparated into the kitchen to find Hermione chopping up meat with a cleaver. She screamed, brandishing the lethal weapon. Then she realised it was Severus, and put it down with a sigh of relief.
“Bloody fucking hell! You could’ve killed me!” He eyed the cleaver warily.
“Sorry, Severus. It’s just, I’m sure I saw a beetle on the basil plant. It disappeared a second later. I can’t help but be jumpy.”
He gave her that much.
“So, you talked Mrs Malfoy out of it, right?”
“Er, about that.” He explained.
Needless to say, she did not take it well.
& & &
“Nimue’s nappies, Severus! How the fuck do you expect me to even step foot there again after… after.. after everything? I swore never to set foot in that fucking hellhole again! Never, Severus!”
Severus sighed. ‘Screw all that, Hermione. This isn’t about our past and dark and light. The Dark Lord is dead, bastard that he was. We’re still alive. They’re still alive. Shouldn’t we celebrate that?”
She dropped the cleaver and sank down into a kitchen chair. “You weren’t there, Severus. I-I-there are still nightmares, demons I can’t face. Don’t make me do it Severus. Please, please don’t.”
& & &
Severus regarded his fiancee. Sat down, she was small but still defiant.
“You’re the strongest woman I know, Hermione. Bastet’s bollocks, I wouldn’t be marrying you otherwise. You have to do this. You can’t hide forever.”
“Severus-”
“Please, Hermione.”
She had tears in her eyes. It pulled at his heartstrings, knowing he had put them there.
Severus knelt down so that he was eye-level with her. “Hermione. Merlin, woman, I love you. I won’t let anyone hurt you, now or ever. You’ll be safe with me. I promise you that, Hermione.”
“Oh, Severus,” she sighed, and he kissed her.
& & &
“That’s why she won’t come? Merlin’s pearls, but that’s simply out of the question.” Narcissa sniffed, affronted. “One simply does not speak of such things.”
Draco sighed. This would take a while. “Mother, you can’t blame her. Even I can’t remember that day without having nightmares. Although I don’t care that much about Granger, I can understand where it comes from.” He had an unusually serious expression.
Narcissa flicked an imaginary piece of lint off of her glove. “Well, that’s too bad. I’ve already sent out the invitations. She will simply have to face her demons, by Dionysus.”
& & &
Eventually, she agreed to go. It had taken much emotion, words of comfort and, of course, sex.
However, Hermione refused to let Severus off lightly.
He was massaging her as ‘punishment’.
Severus sighed contentedly. If only all punishments involved naked Gryffindors moaning underneath hi-
“Severus! Pay attention!”
Oh well.
Then a thought occurred to him. “Hermione?”
She sighed with pleasure. He took that as a ‘yes’.
“You do realise that all the Hogwarts staff will be there, right?”
She groaned. He distinctly heard “Fucky fucking fuckity fuck”, muffled by the pillow.
He had a feeling it wasn’t out of pleasure.
Next Chapter!