Drabbles
For
heather11483, who asked for George and Luna and clouds
“Didn’t you ever do this?” Luna asked, stroking George’s hair away from the spot where his ear ought to have been.
“Do what?” George asked, surprisingly contented.
“Just spend the afternoon, watching the sky.”
“Nah,” George said. “Too busy, too much trouble to get into. Besides, if we-I mean I looked at the sky too long, I wanted to be up in it.”
“Oh,” Luna said softly, “That makes sense, I suppose. Thank you for sharing it with me anyway. It’s ever so much nicer with another person.”
George reached up and brushed away a wisp of hair that was blocking his view of her eyes, which were looking heavenward and somewhat unfocused. He wondered what shapes she was seeing there. Did she see the normal fat white rabbits and sheep and dinosaurs or did she see more of the creatures that only seemed to exist in that fathomless mind of hers, in the place where she kept her unique ability to see the impossible? Things like George Weasley, fully functional adult and worthwhile human being-as opposed to the angry, bitter basket case he saw when he looked in the mirror.
He closed his eyes and smiled, turning his head in her lap so that his nose brushed her belly. Inhaling deeply, he felt the tension leaving his body bit by bit. Maybe she was on to something after all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For
the_rainbow_jen, who wanted Seamus and Luna
She’d always bothered him.
Most birds were easy enough to suss out once you worked out what it was drove them and Seamus was better at it than most, and therefore much more successful than many of his mates. Of course, the fact that two of their number had lost their hearts at an obscenely early age narrowed the competition a bit. And a good thing, too, because those two (had they chosen to take advantage of their hero status the way that Seamus did) would have obliterated the competition. Granted, Neville was the dark horse in the race, and Dean did fairly well for himself just by being tall and dark and broody and artistic...
But still, nobody ever said that Seamus Finnegan was anything less than a ladies man. So it wasn’t as if he needed to add her to the notches on his bedpost. She wasn’t even all that fit, anyway. Well, she was pretty (much more so than at school) in a fae, mystical way. But it wasn’t that making him mental. It was her utter inaccessibility. It was the fact that no matter how much charm he leveled at her she continued to be oblivious to his desirability. He sometimes wondered why he kept bothering.
He just couldn’t help himself. She would give him that vague look and thank him for whatever compliment he gave her, she would accept his offered gifts or drinks with apparent gratitude, she'd even laugh at his jokes. But she bloody well wouldn’t focus on him. He knew she was capable of it--he’d seen her with Ginny and Neville or sometimes even Ron. But never him, and it drove him mad, making him try even harder.
The day that she finally did turn to him, he wondered what he’d got himself into. He’d only wanted to make her notice him, right? But when she turned the full force of those misty eyes on him and saw him, really saw him, looked into his eyes and saw him right down to the depths of his twisted soul, he was lost.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For
fitzette, who wanted Seamus and Dean and the prompt; 'and yet'
All was well.
The dead were mourned, the heroes honoured, the ruins rebuilt, the wounds were healed, and all was right with the world. And yet it wasn’t, as far as Seamus was concerned. Having his best mate back ought to have solved everything that had been wrong the previous year, ought to have made the ache in his gut completely disappear, or settle into something manageable anyway.
The only time it had felt completely right was that fleeting, endless moment when he’d thrown his arms around Dean, roaring with joy and relief and something else, something he couldn’t quite put a name to. It was there, hours later when he’d done it again, but he’d written that off as adrenaline left over from the fight.
Since then, the ache was back, that panicky sense of missing something important, of being afraid to hope, but even more terrified to imagine the worst. Bad enough when Seamus was alone, but it became nearly unbearable when Dean was near, but not focused on him. It felt suspiciously like longing, and that was impossible, wasn’t it?
And yet, there was something different about Dean; something in his eyes that Seamus had initially written of as a residue of the pain that he had suffered during his months on the run. Now, he wasn’t so sure, because sometimes he would catch it on Dean when he’d turn suddenly, as if maybe Dean had been looking and trying not to get caught looking. Like maybe if Seamus turned around fast enough, he might see Dean’s heart in his eyes. But no-he was imagining things, he was daft, it was bloody well impossible.
And yet…
heather11483, who asked for George and Luna and clouds
“Didn’t you ever do this?” Luna asked, stroking George’s hair away from the spot where his ear ought to have been.
“Do what?” George asked, surprisingly contented.
“Just spend the afternoon, watching the sky.”
“Nah,” George said. “Too busy, too much trouble to get into. Besides, if we-I mean I looked at the sky too long, I wanted to be up in it.”
“Oh,” Luna said softly, “That makes sense, I suppose. Thank you for sharing it with me anyway. It’s ever so much nicer with another person.”
George reached up and brushed away a wisp of hair that was blocking his view of her eyes, which were looking heavenward and somewhat unfocused. He wondered what shapes she was seeing there. Did she see the normal fat white rabbits and sheep and dinosaurs or did she see more of the creatures that only seemed to exist in that fathomless mind of hers, in the place where she kept her unique ability to see the impossible? Things like George Weasley, fully functional adult and worthwhile human being-as opposed to the angry, bitter basket case he saw when he looked in the mirror.
He closed his eyes and smiled, turning his head in her lap so that his nose brushed her belly. Inhaling deeply, he felt the tension leaving his body bit by bit. Maybe she was on to something after all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For
the_rainbow_jen, who wanted Seamus and Luna
She’d always bothered him.
Most birds were easy enough to suss out once you worked out what it was drove them and Seamus was better at it than most, and therefore much more successful than many of his mates. Of course, the fact that two of their number had lost their hearts at an obscenely early age narrowed the competition a bit. And a good thing, too, because those two (had they chosen to take advantage of their hero status the way that Seamus did) would have obliterated the competition. Granted, Neville was the dark horse in the race, and Dean did fairly well for himself just by being tall and dark and broody and artistic...
But still, nobody ever said that Seamus Finnegan was anything less than a ladies man. So it wasn’t as if he needed to add her to the notches on his bedpost. She wasn’t even all that fit, anyway. Well, she was pretty (much more so than at school) in a fae, mystical way. But it wasn’t that making him mental. It was her utter inaccessibility. It was the fact that no matter how much charm he leveled at her she continued to be oblivious to his desirability. He sometimes wondered why he kept bothering.
He just couldn’t help himself. She would give him that vague look and thank him for whatever compliment he gave her, she would accept his offered gifts or drinks with apparent gratitude, she'd even laugh at his jokes. But she bloody well wouldn’t focus on him. He knew she was capable of it--he’d seen her with Ginny and Neville or sometimes even Ron. But never him, and it drove him mad, making him try even harder.
The day that she finally did turn to him, he wondered what he’d got himself into. He’d only wanted to make her notice him, right? But when she turned the full force of those misty eyes on him and saw him, really saw him, looked into his eyes and saw him right down to the depths of his twisted soul, he was lost.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For
fitzette, who wanted Seamus and Dean and the prompt; 'and yet'
All was well.
The dead were mourned, the heroes honoured, the ruins rebuilt, the wounds were healed, and all was right with the world. And yet it wasn’t, as far as Seamus was concerned. Having his best mate back ought to have solved everything that had been wrong the previous year, ought to have made the ache in his gut completely disappear, or settle into something manageable anyway.
The only time it had felt completely right was that fleeting, endless moment when he’d thrown his arms around Dean, roaring with joy and relief and something else, something he couldn’t quite put a name to. It was there, hours later when he’d done it again, but he’d written that off as adrenaline left over from the fight.
Since then, the ache was back, that panicky sense of missing something important, of being afraid to hope, but even more terrified to imagine the worst. Bad enough when Seamus was alone, but it became nearly unbearable when Dean was near, but not focused on him. It felt suspiciously like longing, and that was impossible, wasn’t it?
And yet, there was something different about Dean; something in his eyes that Seamus had initially written of as a residue of the pain that he had suffered during his months on the run. Now, he wasn’t so sure, because sometimes he would catch it on Dean when he’d turn suddenly, as if maybe Dean had been looking and trying not to get caught looking. Like maybe if Seamus turned around fast enough, he might see Dean’s heart in his eyes. But no-he was imagining things, he was daft, it was bloody well impossible.
And yet…