Harry Potter: Oh, For Circe's Sake! [hp_wishes]
Title: Oh, For Circe's Sake!
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Ginny Weasley/Gabrielle Delacour
Rating: PG
Warning: N/A
For: chimbomba at hp_wishes
Prompt: Humor/Light fluff, with awkwardness. Anything as long as it does not take place at Bill and Fleur's wedding.
Wordcount: 543
Ginny liked Gabrielle better than Fleur, she wasn’t as irritating as her sister, and her voice didn’t grate. Instead it was soft, lilting, and Ginny liked to listen to her talk. They would sit and discuss things on her short visits, usually devolving into a discussion about Quidditch. Ginny had just gotten a place with the Holyhead Harpies, and she loved it (despite Ron’s dark remarks about being a traitor to the Cannons) but whenever Quidditch came up, Gabrielle said that same thing.
“Quedditch is barbaric.” Gabrielle would say, turning up her tiny nose and shaking her head. “I do not understand ‘ow ‘oo play zee horrid thing.”
Then, almost as if reading a script, Ginny would fall into a spirited defense of Quidditch. Only this time, she found herself flushing and feeling strangely awkward as they debated it yet again. She was too aware of Gabrielle, the way her legs were tangled up beneath her, the way her hair fell over one eye, and for the first time her throat went dry.
She tried to brush it off, but the awkwardness wouldn’t go away. It made her stomach tangle and her breath catch, with an almost neurotic feeling. Instead, she started to avoid her sister-in-law like she carried the Red Death or Typhoid Mary’s straight razor. She threw herself into Quidditch, thinking the visit would pass, Gabrielle would leave and everything would go back to normal.
Except Delacours were not the type of people that could handle being ignored, and when it was only a few days before she went back home to Marseilles, she went to the practise, getting in with a bit of Veela charm.
Ginny saw her in the stands and felt her stomach flip, and almost right away the distraction was maddening. After almost getting hit with a bludger, she managed to shake it off enough to play marginally well, and headed into the showers with the team.
As they were leaving in a group, discussing going down to the local pub, Gabrielle appeared in her peripheral vision and Ginny’s heart flipped over in time with her stomach. “Gabrielle.”
“‘Oo have been ignoring me, Ginny....” Gabrielle said sadly, looking as if she was about to cry, though she and Ginny both new she wasn’t about to let that happen. “Why?”
Ginny felt her throat close over and blushed, moving over and taking Gabrielle’s hands in hers. “I haven’t...it’s just been...I’ve been busy and..you hate Quidditch--why did you come?”
“I came to zee ‘oo.” Gabrielle said slowly, as if she was trying to make sense of the redhead’s babbling. She was perplexed.
Gwenog Jones, experienced as she was, rolled her eyes, and gave Ginny a shove, right against Gabrielle. “Oh, for Circe’s sake, just kiss the girl, Weasley.”
Ginny blushed redder, trying to make sense of the foreign words and the slight flush to Gabrielle’s cheek, and then, almost experimentally, kissed her gently, lingering over th softness of her lips.
“Oh...” Gabrielle said a moment later, “So zat is why ‘oo were avoiding me.” She smiled at Ginny. “‘Oo idioot!” And then the younger girl kissed her, and the Harpies broke into whoops of cheers and laughter.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Ginny Weasley/Gabrielle Delacour
Rating: PG
Warning: N/A
For: chimbomba at hp_wishes
Prompt: Humor/Light fluff, with awkwardness. Anything as long as it does not take place at Bill and Fleur's wedding.
Wordcount: 543
Ginny liked Gabrielle better than Fleur, she wasn’t as irritating as her sister, and her voice didn’t grate. Instead it was soft, lilting, and Ginny liked to listen to her talk. They would sit and discuss things on her short visits, usually devolving into a discussion about Quidditch. Ginny had just gotten a place with the Holyhead Harpies, and she loved it (despite Ron’s dark remarks about being a traitor to the Cannons) but whenever Quidditch came up, Gabrielle said that same thing.
“Quedditch is barbaric.” Gabrielle would say, turning up her tiny nose and shaking her head. “I do not understand ‘ow ‘oo play zee horrid thing.”
Then, almost as if reading a script, Ginny would fall into a spirited defense of Quidditch. Only this time, she found herself flushing and feeling strangely awkward as they debated it yet again. She was too aware of Gabrielle, the way her legs were tangled up beneath her, the way her hair fell over one eye, and for the first time her throat went dry.
She tried to brush it off, but the awkwardness wouldn’t go away. It made her stomach tangle and her breath catch, with an almost neurotic feeling. Instead, she started to avoid her sister-in-law like she carried the Red Death or Typhoid Mary’s straight razor. She threw herself into Quidditch, thinking the visit would pass, Gabrielle would leave and everything would go back to normal.
Except Delacours were not the type of people that could handle being ignored, and when it was only a few days before she went back home to Marseilles, she went to the practise, getting in with a bit of Veela charm.
Ginny saw her in the stands and felt her stomach flip, and almost right away the distraction was maddening. After almost getting hit with a bludger, she managed to shake it off enough to play marginally well, and headed into the showers with the team.
As they were leaving in a group, discussing going down to the local pub, Gabrielle appeared in her peripheral vision and Ginny’s heart flipped over in time with her stomach. “Gabrielle.”
“‘Oo have been ignoring me, Ginny....” Gabrielle said sadly, looking as if she was about to cry, though she and Ginny both new she wasn’t about to let that happen. “Why?”
Ginny felt her throat close over and blushed, moving over and taking Gabrielle’s hands in hers. “I haven’t...it’s just been...I’ve been busy and..you hate Quidditch--why did you come?”
“I came to zee ‘oo.” Gabrielle said slowly, as if she was trying to make sense of the redhead’s babbling. She was perplexed.
Gwenog Jones, experienced as she was, rolled her eyes, and gave Ginny a shove, right against Gabrielle. “Oh, for Circe’s sake, just kiss the girl, Weasley.”
Ginny blushed redder, trying to make sense of the foreign words and the slight flush to Gabrielle’s cheek, and then, almost experimentally, kissed her gently, lingering over th softness of her lips.
“Oh...” Gabrielle said a moment later, “So zat is why ‘oo were avoiding me.” She smiled at Ginny. “‘Oo idioot!” And then the younger girl kissed her, and the Harpies broke into whoops of cheers and laughter.