drabble time!
I'd like to mention, for anyone who missed it, that yesterday's drabble was in her, the fresh miracle of surprise, (Lily Evans/Tom Riddle).
Now, for today's drabble...
For Hey, You, Over There (aka anonymous):
Vantage Point
Michael Corner observing Hermione Granger/Luna Lovegood. PG, 450 words.
***
Michael Corner had been slaving away on his latest essay for hours when Luna Lovegood meandered into the library. He was at his favorite table, the one half-hidden in the shadows so he could see who came and went without having to actually talk to someone he didn’t want to. He was mostly alone, as Hermione Granger was the only other person willing to be doing research this late on a Friday night.
Desperate for distraction from the economic shifts in goblin markets in the fourteenth century, Michael watched as Luna walked straight to Hermione’s table, leaning against it as she murmured a greeting.
Michael wondered at why those two would be friends, except maybe not many other people could bear to be around them. Sure, Ginny had said nice things about the girl - both girls, in fact, but Ginny had always been too nice about her brother’s friends by half.
Luna snatched away Hermione’s scroll, and even from this distance Michael could hear her saying seriously it was spelled by Willomights, who would change all the answers from right to wrong overnight. Michael watched avidly, knowing from harsh experience that Hermione was likely to curse her silly or scold her to death.
Instead, Hermione - tight-laced Hermione, whose nose was rarely out of a book - giggled and playfully swatted at Luna, grabbing back her scroll.
“I have to get this done,” he heard Hermione say, and Luna replied with something too quiet for him to hear, but there was something alluring about the way she sat on the table (Michael wished for Hermione’s vantage point for a second, as he was sure that she could see right up Looney’s skirt) and picked up Hermione’s quill, twirling it slowly.
Hermione leaned forward, her hand sliding under Luna’s skirt up a pale thigh, and Michael’s eyes grew wide. “No way,” he muttered to himself, then promptly fell out of his chair as Hermione stood, hand still under schoolgirl plaid and positioned between Luna’s spread knees, and kissed the blonde girl slowly on the lips.
“No one would believe me,” Michael whispered to himself, trying to untangle his robes from the overturned chair leg, staring shocked at the two girls. They had broken apart at the screeching of his chair against bare floor and the thump as he hit the ground, and looked vaguely guilty as they realized they hadn’t been quite alone.
“I’m okay,” he called to them, hastily standing and setting his chair aright, grabbing his books and scrolls and quills in a hasty armload. “Carry on, carry on.”
He rushed out of the library, willing himself not to look over his shoulder to see if they were obeying.
Now, for today's drabble...
For Hey, You, Over There (aka anonymous):
Vantage Point
Michael Corner observing Hermione Granger/Luna Lovegood. PG, 450 words.
***
Michael Corner had been slaving away on his latest essay for hours when Luna Lovegood meandered into the library. He was at his favorite table, the one half-hidden in the shadows so he could see who came and went without having to actually talk to someone he didn’t want to. He was mostly alone, as Hermione Granger was the only other person willing to be doing research this late on a Friday night.
Desperate for distraction from the economic shifts in goblin markets in the fourteenth century, Michael watched as Luna walked straight to Hermione’s table, leaning against it as she murmured a greeting.
Michael wondered at why those two would be friends, except maybe not many other people could bear to be around them. Sure, Ginny had said nice things about the girl - both girls, in fact, but Ginny had always been too nice about her brother’s friends by half.
Luna snatched away Hermione’s scroll, and even from this distance Michael could hear her saying seriously it was spelled by Willomights, who would change all the answers from right to wrong overnight. Michael watched avidly, knowing from harsh experience that Hermione was likely to curse her silly or scold her to death.
Instead, Hermione - tight-laced Hermione, whose nose was rarely out of a book - giggled and playfully swatted at Luna, grabbing back her scroll.
“I have to get this done,” he heard Hermione say, and Luna replied with something too quiet for him to hear, but there was something alluring about the way she sat on the table (Michael wished for Hermione’s vantage point for a second, as he was sure that she could see right up Looney’s skirt) and picked up Hermione’s quill, twirling it slowly.
Hermione leaned forward, her hand sliding under Luna’s skirt up a pale thigh, and Michael’s eyes grew wide. “No way,” he muttered to himself, then promptly fell out of his chair as Hermione stood, hand still under schoolgirl plaid and positioned between Luna’s spread knees, and kissed the blonde girl slowly on the lips.
“No one would believe me,” Michael whispered to himself, trying to untangle his robes from the overturned chair leg, staring shocked at the two girls. They had broken apart at the screeching of his chair against bare floor and the thump as he hit the ground, and looked vaguely guilty as they realized they hadn’t been quite alone.
“I’m okay,” he called to them, hastily standing and setting his chair aright, grabbing his books and scrolls and quills in a hasty armload. “Carry on, carry on.”
He rushed out of the library, willing himself not to look over his shoulder to see if they were obeying.