I F***ing Do, Part 23
Title: I F***ing Do
Team : Order of the Phoenix
Word Count: 100 x 14
Rating: Mature--bad language here. (Well, obviously.)
Challenge: Creative Cursing Challenge
Characters: Hermione/Severus, Toby Snape, Aberforth, the Malfoys, Eileen Snape, Horace Slughorn, Ginny, Luna, Melanie, Peeves and the Grangers
Disclaimer: They're not mine, they're J.K. Rowling's. Alas.
Notes: 23rd installment of "I F***ing Do," a Hissing Harpies round robin. Extra special thanks to all the wonderful and supportive Harpies for their patience and understanding, most especially a_bees_buzz, dickgloucester and duniazade for the feedback. Any remaining errors are purely my fault.
Sadly, my turns have come to an end, and today marks my final installment of the story. I have utmost faith that my talented and stunningly creative fellow Harpies will bring this story to a fabulous conclusion, and I look forward to following the story where they lead. It's been an absolute treat to work with such wonderful writers and lovely people, and I truly hope that all of you readers have enjoyed reading this story as much as we've enjoyed writing it. Thanks to everybody involved!
Previously, on "I F***ing Do"...
All previous entries
Hermione woke to warmth: warm sheets beneath her, warm sunshine in her face, warm Severus beside her, his warm, long limbs tangled with hers, and his warm breath tickling as he snored.
She yawned, absently wiping Severus' drool from her cheek, as usual. After returning from Hogwarts, they'd reconciled very, very thoroughly, and her body still hummed with contentment.
Grinning at the memory, Hermione stretched lazily, turned to look at the clock-and gasped.
"Saturn's saggy bollocks! Severus, wake up right now and get your bony arse out of bed! We're going to be late for our own bloody wedding!"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Using Summoning Charms, Hermione was soon packed and ready to depart for Hogwarts. Still, she was nagged by the feeling that she'd overlooked something.
"You've already prepared for every contingency, and then some," Severus murmured, embracing her from behind. "It'll be fine. Even all the sodding incompetent imbeciles around us won't ruin our day."
"You're right." She turned, kissing him. "See you later. Make sure Ron doesn't forget anything."
"Indeed. Remember: in a few days we'll be on the beach, fucking."
Distracted by their goodbyes, neither noticed the fluffy ball of feathers that insinuated itself into one of Hermione's bags.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Narcissa slapped at Lucius' hand. "Merlin's diamond cufflinks, Lucius! Stop fussing with it!"
Lucius reluctantly abandoned efforts to obtain maximum coverage from his top hat. "When I find Dolohov, I'm going to extract his entrails through his nose and shove them back down his fucking throat," he sulked. "Unforgivables are well and good, but attacking a man's hair is not on."
"Ready?" Draco asked, popping in. "We should be early, in case Severus-" He suddenly burst out laughing. "Lovely hat, Father." His sniggering echoed behind him as he walked away.
"Perhaps it's time to trim his allowance," Lucius said sourly.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Bloody hell!" Toby stared down in horror at the ancient dress robes with their discoloured ruffles. "I look like a chuffing great ponce-but I s'pose all you wizardy types look like ponces, running around in bleeding dresses."
"Robes," Aberforth corrected, wearing an only slightly less decrepit set. "You're sure about this?"
Toby nodded. "I mean to fit in; that little witch of Sev's will have me right out on my arse if I don't. I can't miss my own lad's wedding! Besides," he added, grinning, "that tight-arsed little skinflint'll never cough up anything if I nark him off today."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It always took Horace longer to dress with Eileen around, mainly because she kept undressing him.
"No fez, Horace," she complained, tossing his hat aside and massaging the scalp beneath. "I love baldness on a man. It's so virile…"
"Oho! Feeling frisky, my voluptuous Veela?" He twirled his moustache coyly at her.
"Always," she purred. "There's time enough for a quick one before the ceremony..."
Horace beamed, fingering the jeweller's box in his pocket and thinking of his plans for the reception. Eileen Prince Snape was a wondrous witch, a towering temptress, and soon-he hoped-she would be his.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"I can't believe Hermione's being such a vindictive cow!" Ginny pouted. Her carroty hair clashed sickeningly against her pink bridesmaid's dress. "I look like a pile of Thestral puke!"
"Thestral vomit is red," Luna corrected.
"Nobody asked you," Ginny snapped, petulantly tossing her bouquet. "And take off those anti-Nargle amulets."
A beetle escaped from Ginny's bouquet.
"It's your own fault," smirked Melanie, whose skin was pink from Waxing Charms. "Hermione warned you. You couldn't help blabbing. You're lucky you're in the wedding, you spiteful slag!"
"Quiet, you hairy half-breed, or I'll bring your furry little problem back," Ginny warned.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"You wouldn't dare, you backhexing little-"
Suddenly, Peeves sailed through the wall of the dressing room, cackling with perverted glee as Melanie screamed and covered her bare chest.
"Oooh, who does Peevesie spy here? Lovely lovelies, ladies," he leered.
"PEEVES!" Ginny roared, blasting him. "Fuck off, you perverted poltergeist!"
"Leave us alone, you peeping woozlesnatcher!" Luna added, throwing a hex of her own.
"Go ogle somebody else's tits!" Melanie shrieked, finishing him off by cursing him through the wall.
There was a moment of silence afterward.
"Nice teamwork, ladies," Ginny finally said.
They shared a grin of perfect understanding.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The elves had readied a private dressing room for Hermione, unpacking her things and laying out the dress Madam Malkin had finally finished altering. Upon entering the room, Hermione was momentarily breathless.
The original dress had been a monstrous meringue of cabbage roses and crinoline, but this was a sleek revelation. The refurbished fabric had been subtly embroidered with a lacy pattern of silver vines, and it glowed with a sheen that could only be described as magical.
It was gorgeous, and it was hers.
Hermione didn't realize she was crying until she wiped her face and found it wet.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hermione squirmed under the assault of Melanie's hairdressing and Ginny's Cosmetic Charms.
"Hold still," Melanie cautioned, "or you'll end up looking like a Pygmy Puff."
"What are you doing, you furry fuckwit?" Ginny burst out. "A Curling Charm is only for-"
"Shut it, you blabber-mouthed bitch!" Melanie snapped. "If there's one thing I know, it's how to deal with problem hair!"
"You'd both better fwooping shut it," Hermione warned, "or I'll hex you into herring and feed you to the Giant Squid!"
They worked in sullen silence.
"Finished," Melanie finally announced, applying one last Fixing Charm. "Now for the corset!"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The production of lacing Hermione's corset and getting her into her dress involved every bridesmaid, numerous Charms and shouts of Circe's soggy knickers and Gaia's bloody garters.
Still, once the task was completed, a hush fell over the room.
"Oh, Thalia's thong-Hermione, you're gorgeous," Ginny breathed. The other women murmured agreement.
She was gorgeous, she discovered. The dress fit perfectly, and Ginny's charms added just the right amount of rosy colour to her face. Her Goblin-wrought tiara gleamed, nestled securely atop the glossy curls that Melanie had somehow subdued from their usual snarls.
Hermione smiled, suddenly filled with giddy excitement.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Perhaps Severus was right. Perhaps, for all the disasters that had gone before, this day-the single most important one-would turn out all right after all.
For the first time, Hermione believed it was possible.
"Right, then." She scooped up her bouquet and nodded at her reflection. "Let's get married," she said, stepping into the corridor and waiting for the girls to follow.
Adrift in a haze of happy anticipation, she didn't notice Peeves heading in her direction, well armed and eager for vengeful mischief, until the first Dungbomb hit her.
Her shriek was audible from the Astronomy Tower.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The Portkey deposited the Grangers before Hogwarts, just as Severus had promised.
"Sodding hell!" Jocasta swore, clutching Martin to avoid falling on her bum. She'd never got the hang of travelling by Magical means, and the rest of the family hadn't fared better; Alice looked faintly green and Alfie had half-fallen out of his wheelchair.
"Bugger me sideways and call me Betty," Alfie muttered as Martin resettled him. "How does Hermione stand it?"
Before Jocasta could respond, Ginny Potter tore out of the castle, looking like a pink-and-orange nightmare, her expression frighteningly serious.
"Come quick," she panted. "Hermione needs you."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jocasta heard Hermione before she saw her. Her daughter's enraged bellowing rang off the stone corridors, carrying all the way out to the entryway.
"PEEVES! YOU SHIT-STIRRING, PUTRESCENT POLTERGEIST, I'M GOING TO EXORCISE YOU AND TRAP YOU IN A FILTHY FUCKING TOILET BOWL SO THAT AN ETERNAL RAIN OF CRAP FALLS ON YOU, AND THEN YOU SEE HOW YOU LIKE IT!"
There was an echoing crack of magic, an agonised howl-and then silence.
"Godric's hairy gonads, what's he done now?" muttered Ginny.
Jocasta ran the rest of the way. As she turned the corner, she couldn't believe her eyes.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jocasta's first thought was that it was very unlikely that the Fotheringay-Forbes wedding dress would be passed down ever again.
Her second thought was to wonder where all the horseshit had come from.
It was splattered over the walls and floor, as though a sewer had exploded. In the centre of the destruction stood a wild-eyed Hermione, covered in muck, with her wand in hand.
When she caught sight of Jocasta, her face crumpled. "Oh, Mum," she whimpered. "It was so perfect, and now it's all ruined…"
As sobs overwhelmed Hermione, Jocasta took her in her arms, manure and all.
On to the next chapter
Team : Order of the Phoenix
Word Count: 100 x 14
Rating: Mature--bad language here. (Well, obviously.)
Challenge: Creative Cursing Challenge
Characters: Hermione/Severus, Toby Snape, Aberforth, the Malfoys, Eileen Snape, Horace Slughorn, Ginny, Luna, Melanie, Peeves and the Grangers
Disclaimer: They're not mine, they're J.K. Rowling's. Alas.
Notes: 23rd installment of "I F***ing Do," a Hissing Harpies round robin. Extra special thanks to all the wonderful and supportive Harpies for their patience and understanding, most especially a_bees_buzz, dickgloucester and duniazade for the feedback. Any remaining errors are purely my fault.
Sadly, my turns have come to an end, and today marks my final installment of the story. I have utmost faith that my talented and stunningly creative fellow Harpies will bring this story to a fabulous conclusion, and I look forward to following the story where they lead. It's been an absolute treat to work with such wonderful writers and lovely people, and I truly hope that all of you readers have enjoyed reading this story as much as we've enjoyed writing it. Thanks to everybody involved!
Previously, on "I F***ing Do"...
All previous entries
Hermione woke to warmth: warm sheets beneath her, warm sunshine in her face, warm Severus beside her, his warm, long limbs tangled with hers, and his warm breath tickling as he snored.
She yawned, absently wiping Severus' drool from her cheek, as usual. After returning from Hogwarts, they'd reconciled very, very thoroughly, and her body still hummed with contentment.
Grinning at the memory, Hermione stretched lazily, turned to look at the clock-and gasped.
"Saturn's saggy bollocks! Severus, wake up right now and get your bony arse out of bed! We're going to be late for our own bloody wedding!"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Using Summoning Charms, Hermione was soon packed and ready to depart for Hogwarts. Still, she was nagged by the feeling that she'd overlooked something.
"You've already prepared for every contingency, and then some," Severus murmured, embracing her from behind. "It'll be fine. Even all the sodding incompetent imbeciles around us won't ruin our day."
"You're right." She turned, kissing him. "See you later. Make sure Ron doesn't forget anything."
"Indeed. Remember: in a few days we'll be on the beach, fucking."
Distracted by their goodbyes, neither noticed the fluffy ball of feathers that insinuated itself into one of Hermione's bags.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Narcissa slapped at Lucius' hand. "Merlin's diamond cufflinks, Lucius! Stop fussing with it!"
Lucius reluctantly abandoned efforts to obtain maximum coverage from his top hat. "When I find Dolohov, I'm going to extract his entrails through his nose and shove them back down his fucking throat," he sulked. "Unforgivables are well and good, but attacking a man's hair is not on."
"Ready?" Draco asked, popping in. "We should be early, in case Severus-" He suddenly burst out laughing. "Lovely hat, Father." His sniggering echoed behind him as he walked away.
"Perhaps it's time to trim his allowance," Lucius said sourly.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Bloody hell!" Toby stared down in horror at the ancient dress robes with their discoloured ruffles. "I look like a chuffing great ponce-but I s'pose all you wizardy types look like ponces, running around in bleeding dresses."
"Robes," Aberforth corrected, wearing an only slightly less decrepit set. "You're sure about this?"
Toby nodded. "I mean to fit in; that little witch of Sev's will have me right out on my arse if I don't. I can't miss my own lad's wedding! Besides," he added, grinning, "that tight-arsed little skinflint'll never cough up anything if I nark him off today."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It always took Horace longer to dress with Eileen around, mainly because she kept undressing him.
"No fez, Horace," she complained, tossing his hat aside and massaging the scalp beneath. "I love baldness on a man. It's so virile…"
"Oho! Feeling frisky, my voluptuous Veela?" He twirled his moustache coyly at her.
"Always," she purred. "There's time enough for a quick one before the ceremony..."
Horace beamed, fingering the jeweller's box in his pocket and thinking of his plans for the reception. Eileen Prince Snape was a wondrous witch, a towering temptress, and soon-he hoped-she would be his.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"I can't believe Hermione's being such a vindictive cow!" Ginny pouted. Her carroty hair clashed sickeningly against her pink bridesmaid's dress. "I look like a pile of Thestral puke!"
"Thestral vomit is red," Luna corrected.
"Nobody asked you," Ginny snapped, petulantly tossing her bouquet. "And take off those anti-Nargle amulets."
A beetle escaped from Ginny's bouquet.
"It's your own fault," smirked Melanie, whose skin was pink from Waxing Charms. "Hermione warned you. You couldn't help blabbing. You're lucky you're in the wedding, you spiteful slag!"
"Quiet, you hairy half-breed, or I'll bring your furry little problem back," Ginny warned.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
"You wouldn't dare, you backhexing little-"
Suddenly, Peeves sailed through the wall of the dressing room, cackling with perverted glee as Melanie screamed and covered her bare chest.
"Oooh, who does Peevesie spy here? Lovely lovelies, ladies," he leered.
"PEEVES!" Ginny roared, blasting him. "Fuck off, you perverted poltergeist!"
"Leave us alone, you peeping woozlesnatcher!" Luna added, throwing a hex of her own.
"Go ogle somebody else's tits!" Melanie shrieked, finishing him off by cursing him through the wall.
There was a moment of silence afterward.
"Nice teamwork, ladies," Ginny finally said.
They shared a grin of perfect understanding.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The elves had readied a private dressing room for Hermione, unpacking her things and laying out the dress Madam Malkin had finally finished altering. Upon entering the room, Hermione was momentarily breathless.
The original dress had been a monstrous meringue of cabbage roses and crinoline, but this was a sleek revelation. The refurbished fabric had been subtly embroidered with a lacy pattern of silver vines, and it glowed with a sheen that could only be described as magical.
It was gorgeous, and it was hers.
Hermione didn't realize she was crying until she wiped her face and found it wet.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hermione squirmed under the assault of Melanie's hairdressing and Ginny's Cosmetic Charms.
"Hold still," Melanie cautioned, "or you'll end up looking like a Pygmy Puff."
"What are you doing, you furry fuckwit?" Ginny burst out. "A Curling Charm is only for-"
"Shut it, you blabber-mouthed bitch!" Melanie snapped. "If there's one thing I know, it's how to deal with problem hair!"
"You'd both better fwooping shut it," Hermione warned, "or I'll hex you into herring and feed you to the Giant Squid!"
They worked in sullen silence.
"Finished," Melanie finally announced, applying one last Fixing Charm. "Now for the corset!"
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The production of lacing Hermione's corset and getting her into her dress involved every bridesmaid, numerous Charms and shouts of Circe's soggy knickers and Gaia's bloody garters.
Still, once the task was completed, a hush fell over the room.
"Oh, Thalia's thong-Hermione, you're gorgeous," Ginny breathed. The other women murmured agreement.
She was gorgeous, she discovered. The dress fit perfectly, and Ginny's charms added just the right amount of rosy colour to her face. Her Goblin-wrought tiara gleamed, nestled securely atop the glossy curls that Melanie had somehow subdued from their usual snarls.
Hermione smiled, suddenly filled with giddy excitement.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Perhaps Severus was right. Perhaps, for all the disasters that had gone before, this day-the single most important one-would turn out all right after all.
For the first time, Hermione believed it was possible.
"Right, then." She scooped up her bouquet and nodded at her reflection. "Let's get married," she said, stepping into the corridor and waiting for the girls to follow.
Adrift in a haze of happy anticipation, she didn't notice Peeves heading in her direction, well armed and eager for vengeful mischief, until the first Dungbomb hit her.
Her shriek was audible from the Astronomy Tower.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The Portkey deposited the Grangers before Hogwarts, just as Severus had promised.
"Sodding hell!" Jocasta swore, clutching Martin to avoid falling on her bum. She'd never got the hang of travelling by Magical means, and the rest of the family hadn't fared better; Alice looked faintly green and Alfie had half-fallen out of his wheelchair.
"Bugger me sideways and call me Betty," Alfie muttered as Martin resettled him. "How does Hermione stand it?"
Before Jocasta could respond, Ginny Potter tore out of the castle, looking like a pink-and-orange nightmare, her expression frighteningly serious.
"Come quick," she panted. "Hermione needs you."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jocasta heard Hermione before she saw her. Her daughter's enraged bellowing rang off the stone corridors, carrying all the way out to the entryway.
"PEEVES! YOU SHIT-STIRRING, PUTRESCENT POLTERGEIST, I'M GOING TO EXORCISE YOU AND TRAP YOU IN A FILTHY FUCKING TOILET BOWL SO THAT AN ETERNAL RAIN OF CRAP FALLS ON YOU, AND THEN YOU SEE HOW YOU LIKE IT!"
There was an echoing crack of magic, an agonised howl-and then silence.
"Godric's hairy gonads, what's he done now?" muttered Ginny.
Jocasta ran the rest of the way. As she turned the corner, she couldn't believe her eyes.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jocasta's first thought was that it was very unlikely that the Fotheringay-Forbes wedding dress would be passed down ever again.
Her second thought was to wonder where all the horseshit had come from.
It was splattered over the walls and floor, as though a sewer had exploded. In the centre of the destruction stood a wild-eyed Hermione, covered in muck, with her wand in hand.
When she caught sight of Jocasta, her face crumpled. "Oh, Mum," she whimpered. "It was so perfect, and now it's all ruined…"
As sobs overwhelmed Hermione, Jocasta took her in her arms, manure and all.
On to the next chapter