[harry potter] Sorry is a Four Letter Word
I love drabble memes so much. I love writing as a gift! Also, absolutely no italics are used in this fic. It's a freakin' miracle!
Title: Sorry is a Four Letter Word
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Percy Weasley/Hermione Granger Weasley
Rating: G
Summary: Most men had an aversion to apologies. Percy Weasley had an allergy to them. [non-compliant with epilogue][written for chimbomba at the multifandom request meme]
Sorry is a Four Letter Word
_______________________________________________
“That semi-colon should be a comma,” she said.
The fireplace was to her back, stretching her shadow over his desk while she leaned curiously over his shoulder. Her hair hung in loose, frizzy ringlets; the more she bent, the more it bobbed from her shoulder onto his. Percy made a noise between a sigh and a growl and placed the parchment and quill flat on his desk.
“You’re blocking my light,” he said. “I can’t see.”
She straightened and inched to the left, until a slim, glowing beam of orange shot across his documents. He scratched his neck, where her hair had tickled and irritated the skin.
“But it should be a comma, you know.”
He looked up at her, frank and annoyed. She appeared only curious, astute and nonchalantly nosy, with Crookshanks cradled in her arms. Whenever she held that damn cat it gave her an air of innocence she didn’t really possess. Hermione wasn’t trying to be helpful - she was trying to be right.
“No, it shouldn’t,” he said. “A comma wouldn’t sufficiently separate the sentence. Please, I’m trying to compose a letter.”
“Trying being the operative word,” she sighed. “No, a comma is correct. The first and second parts of the sentence are not independent. You know, I remember correcting Ron’s punctuation constantly, which he happened to have learned from you…”
Percy’s breath came in sharp and strained through clenched teeth. He felt the swirling, sparkling dust in the air stick to his lips and dry them as he forced out the words, “And just what are you inferring?”
Hermione shrugged, as if shaking off the thin ice that had frosted onto her shoulders in the tiny pause. “Nothing, nothing,” she said. As she was obviously hoping to avoid a conflict, Percy nodded, unlocked his jaw, and dipped his quill in ink.
It was hovering above an uncrossed T when she said, “Other than it should be a comma, of course.”
Percy squeezed his eyes shut until creases formed on his forehead, his glasses slipped down his nose, and bleary lights began to dance in the darkness behind his lids. They were frenetic and jumpy, perhaps leaping in time to the drumbeat of his mounting frustration.
“No, it shouldn’t. The semi-colon could also be replaced by a period -”
“If you were writing a children’s book,” she muttered.
Percy stood so abruptly that the chair rocked precariously on its back two legs before landing shakily on four again. He glared at Hermione, who cocked her head to the side and patted Crookshanks, not threatened in the least.
“Would you like to write this letter, then? Would you? Since you seem so adept at grammar! Never mind how I did on my O.W.L.s! Never mind Head Boy and Prefect status during my intellectually stunning years at Hogwarts!” At this, Hermione’s lips split into a somewhat ashamed, highly amused smile. Percy’s cheeks deepened to the color of overripe tomatoes. “Oh, amusing is it!”
A long silence passed between them, fractured and broken by the crackle of sap in the fireplace. Their eyes stayed fixed on each other, Percy struggling to glare effectively over the frames of his horned-rimmed glasses. Neither of them noticed when Crookshanks yawned and clambered out of Hermione’s arms and landed in a messy bundle on the floor, stalking off.
Finally, Hermione reached out and nudged his glasses back up to their proper resting place.
“Now you know how it feels.”
Percy blinked. “Pardon?”
“Last week?” she said. “I was telling Parvati Patil our new address was 151 Vicars Road, and you said it was 141. ‘Forgive my wife, she’s a bit forgetful.’”
Momentarily cooled, Percy felt his cheeks heat again, this time with shame - an emotion he had unfavorably close relations with. “I may have said that.”
She crossed her arms and gave him That Look - the same look she gave her students as they were being reprimanded. “And?”
“And…” The words were sticky and bitter on his tongue, but lost their flavor as they reluctantly rolled off. “I’m sorry?”
Hermione nodded. “Me too.” With that, she plucked his quill from the desk and handed it to him. “A semi-colon is fine, and we do live at 151. Don’t forget that when you’re writing down the return address.”
He watched her leave the room, mumbling in response to Crookshanks’s distant meows as she did, and he felt something like a grin make the right corner of his lips twitch. He ignored it and inked over the semi-colon again, making it doubly apparent.
Title: Sorry is a Four Letter Word
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Percy Weasley/Hermione Granger Weasley
Rating: G
Summary: Most men had an aversion to apologies. Percy Weasley had an allergy to them. [non-compliant with epilogue][written for chimbomba at the multifandom request meme]
Sorry is a Four Letter Word
_______________________________________________
“That semi-colon should be a comma,” she said.
The fireplace was to her back, stretching her shadow over his desk while she leaned curiously over his shoulder. Her hair hung in loose, frizzy ringlets; the more she bent, the more it bobbed from her shoulder onto his. Percy made a noise between a sigh and a growl and placed the parchment and quill flat on his desk.
“You’re blocking my light,” he said. “I can’t see.”
She straightened and inched to the left, until a slim, glowing beam of orange shot across his documents. He scratched his neck, where her hair had tickled and irritated the skin.
“But it should be a comma, you know.”
He looked up at her, frank and annoyed. She appeared only curious, astute and nonchalantly nosy, with Crookshanks cradled in her arms. Whenever she held that damn cat it gave her an air of innocence she didn’t really possess. Hermione wasn’t trying to be helpful - she was trying to be right.
“No, it shouldn’t,” he said. “A comma wouldn’t sufficiently separate the sentence. Please, I’m trying to compose a letter.”
“Trying being the operative word,” she sighed. “No, a comma is correct. The first and second parts of the sentence are not independent. You know, I remember correcting Ron’s punctuation constantly, which he happened to have learned from you…”
Percy’s breath came in sharp and strained through clenched teeth. He felt the swirling, sparkling dust in the air stick to his lips and dry them as he forced out the words, “And just what are you inferring?”
Hermione shrugged, as if shaking off the thin ice that had frosted onto her shoulders in the tiny pause. “Nothing, nothing,” she said. As she was obviously hoping to avoid a conflict, Percy nodded, unlocked his jaw, and dipped his quill in ink.
It was hovering above an uncrossed T when she said, “Other than it should be a comma, of course.”
Percy squeezed his eyes shut until creases formed on his forehead, his glasses slipped down his nose, and bleary lights began to dance in the darkness behind his lids. They were frenetic and jumpy, perhaps leaping in time to the drumbeat of his mounting frustration.
“No, it shouldn’t. The semi-colon could also be replaced by a period -”
“If you were writing a children’s book,” she muttered.
Percy stood so abruptly that the chair rocked precariously on its back two legs before landing shakily on four again. He glared at Hermione, who cocked her head to the side and patted Crookshanks, not threatened in the least.
“Would you like to write this letter, then? Would you? Since you seem so adept at grammar! Never mind how I did on my O.W.L.s! Never mind Head Boy and Prefect status during my intellectually stunning years at Hogwarts!” At this, Hermione’s lips split into a somewhat ashamed, highly amused smile. Percy’s cheeks deepened to the color of overripe tomatoes. “Oh, amusing is it!”
A long silence passed between them, fractured and broken by the crackle of sap in the fireplace. Their eyes stayed fixed on each other, Percy struggling to glare effectively over the frames of his horned-rimmed glasses. Neither of them noticed when Crookshanks yawned and clambered out of Hermione’s arms and landed in a messy bundle on the floor, stalking off.
Finally, Hermione reached out and nudged his glasses back up to their proper resting place.
“Now you know how it feels.”
Percy blinked. “Pardon?”
“Last week?” she said. “I was telling Parvati Patil our new address was 151 Vicars Road, and you said it was 141. ‘Forgive my wife, she’s a bit forgetful.’”
Momentarily cooled, Percy felt his cheeks heat again, this time with shame - an emotion he had unfavorably close relations with. “I may have said that.”
She crossed her arms and gave him That Look - the same look she gave her students as they were being reprimanded. “And?”
“And…” The words were sticky and bitter on his tongue, but lost their flavor as they reluctantly rolled off. “I’m sorry?”
Hermione nodded. “Me too.” With that, she plucked his quill from the desk and handed it to him. “A semi-colon is fine, and we do live at 151. Don’t forget that when you’re writing down the return address.”
He watched her leave the room, mumbling in response to Crookshanks’s distant meows as she did, and he felt something like a grin make the right corner of his lips twitch. He ignored it and inked over the semi-colon again, making it doubly apparent.