On a different note...
HAPPY BIRTHDAY gods_lil_rocker!!!!
*grins* I'm glad you've (finally) joined me in the old kids club. :)
You know my prayers are with you and your family over your Aunt Button's passing. I wanted to do something to make you smile, though, so I thought, "What could possibly be better than an appallingly bad fanfic being written in her honor?"
So, I painstakingly managed to write you a fluffy, sugary Harry/Hermione ficlet. I'm sure you know how difficult that was for me, so you know how much I like you.
Insurmountable
For Ashley on her birthday.
***
For his twentieth birthday, Harry Potter wished for nothing.
As far as he could tell, he had everything he could ever need. He had managed to vanquish the Dark Lord, he had managed to achieve a career doing the thing he loved the most and he often had his two best friends at his side.
He was well-loved, had more money than he really needed. He was respected within the magical community, and if he had a few too many owls every day from single young witches looking for a good time, well, that was hardly something a young man would complain to deeply about.
But as the candles flickered on his cake, as his friends and makeshift family surrounded him, clapping, singing, cheering, Harry Potter felt the slightest, niggling tendrils of want, and before he had even articulated within his mind what it was that he desired, he blew out the candles, letting the wish form fully in his mind.
I want her.
He raised green eyes up, and met Hermione’s curious glance. “Well?” she said teasingly. “What did you wish for?”
“I can’t tell you that,” Harry replied. “Or else it won’t come true.”
Ron sighed. “Like he even has anything to wish for,” he griped in good nature to Hermione.
The cake was cut, pieces of gooey chocolate goodness were distributed amongst the guests, and finally Harry was left alone with his two best friends. They had ventured into the kitchen, where platters of half-eaten party food were stacked on the sideboards and a large bowl of slightly fizzing punch sat on the table.
Their conversation turned, as conversations with old friend inevitably do, to the past, and soon they were laughing over their childhood escapades with trolls and fame-obsessed teachers.
“I’m really rather thankful for that troll,” Hermione said, taking a sip of punch.
“Why’s that?” Ron asked.
“Because we never would have become friends otherwise!” Hermione replied. “Before that you thought I was a bossy little know-it-all.”
“Still do,” muttered Ron, “but at least now we like you some.”
“Some?” Hermione snapped.
“More than some,” Harry amended quickly.
“How much more than some?” Hermione asked quietly, face suddenly turned serious.
Harry opened his mouth, then shut it again. He was considered courageous by the whole of the wizarding world. He was a hero, he had defeated evil and survived, he had done things other wizards could only dream of, but he couldn’t bring himself to answer Hermione’s question honestly.
Ron saved them from an awkward silence by announcing cheerily, “We like having you around, even if you’re not as useful as you were at Hogwarts.”
“Not as useful?” Hermione said, pulling her eyes away from Harry.
“Well, we haven’t homework for you to check or evil for you to outsmart anymore, have we?” Ron said with a grin.
Hermione responded by throwing a spoon at Ron, who ducked, grinning.
Their mirth was interrupted by the sound of Ginny calling, “Hello? Anyone there?”
“She must be on the Floo,” Ron said. “Otherwise she’d have barged in here. I’ll go see what she wants.”
Harry and Hermione watched him leave the room, tension filling the space that had only moments before been light with laughter.
“So, um,” Harry said.
“Harry, this is ridiculous,” Hermione replied sternly.
“It is?” he asked.
“Quite,” she replied. “Honestly, we’ve been friends for nearly a decade. Didn’t you think I would notice when you started acting like a nervous schoolgirl around me?”
“A nervous schoolgirl?” he said, an anxious giggle escaping him.
The look Hermione gave him made him look down at his feet.
“Harry, look at me,” she said. He obeyed reluctantly. This was the conversation he had been dreading, when Hermione would tell him how silly he was being, when she would say that they were such good friends and she didn’t want anything to ruin that...
He looked up, and Hermione leaned forward and kissed him solidly on the mouth. He stiffened up, but then relaxed into the kiss he had been fantasizing about for an embarrassingly long amount of time. He’d thought that the odds against him and Hermione ever becoming anything more than best friends were insurmountable, but suddenly he was being proven wrong.
They pulled apart, and Harry said, “You mean you like me?”
“Of course I like you, you’re one of my best friends,” Hermione said.
“Do you...” Harry paused, then used his evil-vanquishing bravery for personal gain. “Love me?”
Hermione smiled, pushed a strand of unwieldy brown hair away from her face, and nodded. “Do you love me? Because I thought you did, you always get so red in the face and nervous around girls you like, but I don’t know about love, but from your actions...”
“Hermione,” Harry interrupted. “I do love you.”
They grinned, and as they leaned forward for another kiss Harry thought that this was the best birthday he’d ever had.
As Hermione slid onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and they let their pent up emotions finally be expressed, Harry could dimly hear the door open and Ron announce, “Oh, gross, couldn’t you two put a sock on the door or something?”
The End.
I hope you liked it!
*grins* I'm glad you've (finally) joined me in the old kids club. :)
You know my prayers are with you and your family over your Aunt Button's passing. I wanted to do something to make you smile, though, so I thought, "What could possibly be better than an appallingly bad fanfic being written in her honor?"
So, I painstakingly managed to write you a fluffy, sugary Harry/Hermione ficlet. I'm sure you know how difficult that was for me, so you know how much I like you.
Insurmountable
For Ashley on her birthday.
***
For his twentieth birthday, Harry Potter wished for nothing.
As far as he could tell, he had everything he could ever need. He had managed to vanquish the Dark Lord, he had managed to achieve a career doing the thing he loved the most and he often had his two best friends at his side.
He was well-loved, had more money than he really needed. He was respected within the magical community, and if he had a few too many owls every day from single young witches looking for a good time, well, that was hardly something a young man would complain to deeply about.
But as the candles flickered on his cake, as his friends and makeshift family surrounded him, clapping, singing, cheering, Harry Potter felt the slightest, niggling tendrils of want, and before he had even articulated within his mind what it was that he desired, he blew out the candles, letting the wish form fully in his mind.
I want her.
He raised green eyes up, and met Hermione’s curious glance. “Well?” she said teasingly. “What did you wish for?”
“I can’t tell you that,” Harry replied. “Or else it won’t come true.”
Ron sighed. “Like he even has anything to wish for,” he griped in good nature to Hermione.
The cake was cut, pieces of gooey chocolate goodness were distributed amongst the guests, and finally Harry was left alone with his two best friends. They had ventured into the kitchen, where platters of half-eaten party food were stacked on the sideboards and a large bowl of slightly fizzing punch sat on the table.
Their conversation turned, as conversations with old friend inevitably do, to the past, and soon they were laughing over their childhood escapades with trolls and fame-obsessed teachers.
“I’m really rather thankful for that troll,” Hermione said, taking a sip of punch.
“Why’s that?” Ron asked.
“Because we never would have become friends otherwise!” Hermione replied. “Before that you thought I was a bossy little know-it-all.”
“Still do,” muttered Ron, “but at least now we like you some.”
“Some?” Hermione snapped.
“More than some,” Harry amended quickly.
“How much more than some?” Hermione asked quietly, face suddenly turned serious.
Harry opened his mouth, then shut it again. He was considered courageous by the whole of the wizarding world. He was a hero, he had defeated evil and survived, he had done things other wizards could only dream of, but he couldn’t bring himself to answer Hermione’s question honestly.
Ron saved them from an awkward silence by announcing cheerily, “We like having you around, even if you’re not as useful as you were at Hogwarts.”
“Not as useful?” Hermione said, pulling her eyes away from Harry.
“Well, we haven’t homework for you to check or evil for you to outsmart anymore, have we?” Ron said with a grin.
Hermione responded by throwing a spoon at Ron, who ducked, grinning.
Their mirth was interrupted by the sound of Ginny calling, “Hello? Anyone there?”
“She must be on the Floo,” Ron said. “Otherwise she’d have barged in here. I’ll go see what she wants.”
Harry and Hermione watched him leave the room, tension filling the space that had only moments before been light with laughter.
“So, um,” Harry said.
“Harry, this is ridiculous,” Hermione replied sternly.
“It is?” he asked.
“Quite,” she replied. “Honestly, we’ve been friends for nearly a decade. Didn’t you think I would notice when you started acting like a nervous schoolgirl around me?”
“A nervous schoolgirl?” he said, an anxious giggle escaping him.
The look Hermione gave him made him look down at his feet.
“Harry, look at me,” she said. He obeyed reluctantly. This was the conversation he had been dreading, when Hermione would tell him how silly he was being, when she would say that they were such good friends and she didn’t want anything to ruin that...
He looked up, and Hermione leaned forward and kissed him solidly on the mouth. He stiffened up, but then relaxed into the kiss he had been fantasizing about for an embarrassingly long amount of time. He’d thought that the odds against him and Hermione ever becoming anything more than best friends were insurmountable, but suddenly he was being proven wrong.
They pulled apart, and Harry said, “You mean you like me?”
“Of course I like you, you’re one of my best friends,” Hermione said.
“Do you...” Harry paused, then used his evil-vanquishing bravery for personal gain. “Love me?”
Hermione smiled, pushed a strand of unwieldy brown hair away from her face, and nodded. “Do you love me? Because I thought you did, you always get so red in the face and nervous around girls you like, but I don’t know about love, but from your actions...”
“Hermione,” Harry interrupted. “I do love you.”
They grinned, and as they leaned forward for another kiss Harry thought that this was the best birthday he’d ever had.
As Hermione slid onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and they let their pent up emotions finally be expressed, Harry could dimly hear the door open and Ron announce, “Oh, gross, couldn’t you two put a sock on the door or something?”
The End.
I hope you liked it!