Hands Off the Books!
Author: Me, Lissa_Maylee
Title: Hands Off the Books!
Challenge: Characters Who Ship H/G: Madam Pince
Summary: Madam Pince reminisces about the day she knew Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley would get together.
Rating: PG for suggestions of inappropriate behaviour.
Genre: Romance, sort of.
Word Count: Only about 1060. It's a shortie.
Notes/Warnings: Thanks to Galen for the title!
LOVE IN THE AFTERMATH OF WAR!
Harry Potter Betrothed To His Fellow-Soldier
by Rita Skeeter
The Wizarding World was shocked today by the announcement of an engagement between two key figures in the late war. Harry Potter, of course, needs no introduction. His lucky bride-to-be? Ginevra Weasley, a Hogwarts student just at the end of her sixth year…
That idiot Skeeter woman may well have been shocked, but it comes as no surprise to me. Anyone who watched the two together over the last few years would know that this was the inevitable conclusion: as soon as the war was won, they would settle down and (most likely) begin to procreate profusely, just like her family.
I’m not talking about the ostentatious infatuation Miss Weasley showed upon her first year here at Hogwarts; that was over long ago, and has nothing to do with their current state.
Well, maybe not nothing. After all, it was a very effective way to direct his attention toward herself. Though I suspect that she would have found some way, knowing Miss Weasley. I was not present at the presentation of the infamous valentine, but the story made its way through the teachers’ gossip network, and found me eventually. If embarrassing yourself for the object of your affection isn’t true love, I don’t know what is. Merlin knows I was not a Gryffindor, so I never had the courage to do any such thing. There are times when I curse my Ravenclaw nature.
That, however, is not the purpose of my writing here.
The purpose is simply this: to relate the moment when I first knew that this article in the Daily Prophet was inevitable. This is what I recall.
~*~
It was a beautiful day, but the library was nonetheless quite busy. Not only did I have to help the fifth and seventh years find the proper books for OWL and NEWT revision, but I had to detect and break up any indecent inter-house ‘study sessions’. Roger Davies, Ravenclaw though he may have been, did not often choose brilliant hiding places for these illicit activities.
“Mr Davies! Miss Adamson! Hands off the books! Really, if you must do that, I must ask you to leave the library-or I may have to take the issue up with Professors Flitwick and McGonagall.” It’s a good thing that Miss Adamson is a Gryffindor, because I know what Filius and Pomona would say: “Oh, they’re just young; don’t you remember that, Irma?”
Yes, I do remember it, but I was never so disrespectful as to do anything like that in public. Or around so many valuable (some irreplaceable!) rare books. The Restricted Section, honestly! Do they think that just because I’m the librarian instead of the Charms teacher, I don’t know how to cast a Security Charm?
Severus, of course, would sneer at all involved: the students for being so vulgar and not devious enough to avoid discovery; myself, for caring so much about the books.
Mr Potter had been sitting at a table, all alone and looking rather glum. He was putting up a valiant effort to appear that he was studying, but it was obvious that something else was bothering him.
Suddenly, Miss Weasley burst through the library door like a whirlwind-the same way she usually entered any place-and stood near Mr Potter. Incidentally, she also looked as though she’d been in a whirlwind, with her hair practically standing up straight. Gryffindor had obviously just had Quidditch practise. She was carrying a package of some sort, large, and a bit mangled in places. It had obviously been through our lovely High Inquisitor’s inspection system. I had not been pleased when several of my books were manhandled in a similar fashion, but Dolores was unfazed by my rant on the care of valuable books.
Miss Weasley was grinning, obviously expecting Mr Potter to be happy to see her; her face slowly fell as she realised his current mood.
“Harry?” She nudged him a little, which seemed to break him out of his daze. “Harry, I’m talking to you, can you hear me?”
The rest of their conversation was indistinct, which was perfectly fine in my book; it’s not as though I want people shouting in my library. However, I couldn’t help but note the way that the two young people interacted. Miss Weasley was leaning forward, very interested in everything that he was saying. Mr Potter continued glum for several minutes, but at a certain point in the conversation, perked up and began to lean forward as well.
I would never claim that they were in love at that point, although I wouldn’t vouch for Miss Weasley; what I saw was a combination of factors that is very common in couples who are on their way to a healthy, loving relationship. I’ve done plenty of research on the subject, and I think that this couple alone proves the money I spent on those Muggle romance novels psychology textbooks wasn’t wasted.
Don’t think for a minute that I didn’t notice the chocolate as soon as Miss Weasley brought it out. However, I’m not one to kill budding romance, and I was sure that there were no Hogwarts books anywhere near that table. The students are perfectly free to get brown stains all over their own books.
But I couldn’t just let them get away with the infraction, so as soon as I had finished helping Miss Abbott, I swooped down on them.
“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?”
Miss Weasley jumped up, whispering what I am almost certain was an impolite word.
“Chocolate in the library!” I screamed. “Out--out--OUT!”
As punishment for the rule-breaking, and as a catalyst for love (shared adversity, you know), I sent Mr Potter’s things chasing after them.
~*~
So as you see, I could really even lay claim to helping their romance along. Not that I expect them to realise this; young people rarely do realise how their elders may have been instrumental in the important decisions of their lives. But I imagine that they do remember that afternoon with fondness, and that is all I ask.
Well, I would also like it if the Hogwarts students would show proper respect for books, but that may be a long time in coming.
“Mr Peters! Miss Johnson! Hands off the books!”
Title: Hands Off the Books!
Challenge: Characters Who Ship H/G: Madam Pince
Summary: Madam Pince reminisces about the day she knew Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley would get together.
Rating: PG for suggestions of inappropriate behaviour.
Genre: Romance, sort of.
Word Count: Only about 1060. It's a shortie.
Notes/Warnings: Thanks to Galen for the title!
LOVE IN THE AFTERMATH OF WAR!
Harry Potter Betrothed To His Fellow-Soldier
by Rita Skeeter
The Wizarding World was shocked today by the announcement of an engagement between two key figures in the late war. Harry Potter, of course, needs no introduction. His lucky bride-to-be? Ginevra Weasley, a Hogwarts student just at the end of her sixth year…
That idiot Skeeter woman may well have been shocked, but it comes as no surprise to me. Anyone who watched the two together over the last few years would know that this was the inevitable conclusion: as soon as the war was won, they would settle down and (most likely) begin to procreate profusely, just like her family.
I’m not talking about the ostentatious infatuation Miss Weasley showed upon her first year here at Hogwarts; that was over long ago, and has nothing to do with their current state.
Well, maybe not nothing. After all, it was a very effective way to direct his attention toward herself. Though I suspect that she would have found some way, knowing Miss Weasley. I was not present at the presentation of the infamous valentine, but the story made its way through the teachers’ gossip network, and found me eventually. If embarrassing yourself for the object of your affection isn’t true love, I don’t know what is. Merlin knows I was not a Gryffindor, so I never had the courage to do any such thing. There are times when I curse my Ravenclaw nature.
That, however, is not the purpose of my writing here.
The purpose is simply this: to relate the moment when I first knew that this article in the Daily Prophet was inevitable. This is what I recall.
~*~
It was a beautiful day, but the library was nonetheless quite busy. Not only did I have to help the fifth and seventh years find the proper books for OWL and NEWT revision, but I had to detect and break up any indecent inter-house ‘study sessions’. Roger Davies, Ravenclaw though he may have been, did not often choose brilliant hiding places for these illicit activities.
“Mr Davies! Miss Adamson! Hands off the books! Really, if you must do that, I must ask you to leave the library-or I may have to take the issue up with Professors Flitwick and McGonagall.” It’s a good thing that Miss Adamson is a Gryffindor, because I know what Filius and Pomona would say: “Oh, they’re just young; don’t you remember that, Irma?”
Yes, I do remember it, but I was never so disrespectful as to do anything like that in public. Or around so many valuable (some irreplaceable!) rare books. The Restricted Section, honestly! Do they think that just because I’m the librarian instead of the Charms teacher, I don’t know how to cast a Security Charm?
Severus, of course, would sneer at all involved: the students for being so vulgar and not devious enough to avoid discovery; myself, for caring so much about the books.
Mr Potter had been sitting at a table, all alone and looking rather glum. He was putting up a valiant effort to appear that he was studying, but it was obvious that something else was bothering him.
Suddenly, Miss Weasley burst through the library door like a whirlwind-the same way she usually entered any place-and stood near Mr Potter. Incidentally, she also looked as though she’d been in a whirlwind, with her hair practically standing up straight. Gryffindor had obviously just had Quidditch practise. She was carrying a package of some sort, large, and a bit mangled in places. It had obviously been through our lovely High Inquisitor’s inspection system. I had not been pleased when several of my books were manhandled in a similar fashion, but Dolores was unfazed by my rant on the care of valuable books.
Miss Weasley was grinning, obviously expecting Mr Potter to be happy to see her; her face slowly fell as she realised his current mood.
“Harry?” She nudged him a little, which seemed to break him out of his daze. “Harry, I’m talking to you, can you hear me?”
The rest of their conversation was indistinct, which was perfectly fine in my book; it’s not as though I want people shouting in my library. However, I couldn’t help but note the way that the two young people interacted. Miss Weasley was leaning forward, very interested in everything that he was saying. Mr Potter continued glum for several minutes, but at a certain point in the conversation, perked up and began to lean forward as well.
I would never claim that they were in love at that point, although I wouldn’t vouch for Miss Weasley; what I saw was a combination of factors that is very common in couples who are on their way to a healthy, loving relationship. I’ve done plenty of research on the subject, and I think that this couple alone proves the money I spent on those Muggle romance novels psychology textbooks wasn’t wasted.
Don’t think for a minute that I didn’t notice the chocolate as soon as Miss Weasley brought it out. However, I’m not one to kill budding romance, and I was sure that there were no Hogwarts books anywhere near that table. The students are perfectly free to get brown stains all over their own books.
But I couldn’t just let them get away with the infraction, so as soon as I had finished helping Miss Abbott, I swooped down on them.
“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?”
Miss Weasley jumped up, whispering what I am almost certain was an impolite word.
“Chocolate in the library!” I screamed. “Out--out--OUT!”
As punishment for the rule-breaking, and as a catalyst for love (shared adversity, you know), I sent Mr Potter’s things chasing after them.
~*~
So as you see, I could really even lay claim to helping their romance along. Not that I expect them to realise this; young people rarely do realise how their elders may have been instrumental in the important decisions of their lives. But I imagine that they do remember that afternoon with fondness, and that is all I ask.
Well, I would also like it if the Hogwarts students would show proper respect for books, but that may be a long time in coming.
“Mr Peters! Miss Johnson! Hands off the books!”