Lets Get Obscene
Title: A Proper Courtship
Author:
cocohufflepuffs
Artist:
fairy_poet
Pairings: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom
Raitings: G
Disclaimer: Characters belong to J.K Rowling, no profits being made, JK is God.
Notes:
Hi! *waves* I have volenteered to take up where
cocohufflepuffs has left off with A Proper Courtship.
Chapter 5
"I have to WHAT?" a voice rang out from the library stacks. This time it wasn't Hermione who earned Madame Pince's scowl.
"Neville's right, Harry," Hermione confirmed dryly. Harry appreciated that she had eventually come around enough to support his research efforts, despite her obvious misgivings, but he suspected she was finding this far more entertaining than appropriate. If he didn't know better, he'd say she was making fun of him. "Poetry has always played a prominent role in the courtly traditions. The suitor professes his feelings for his intended, often in a public setting. The Victorians were especially fond of love sonnets."
"Oh, hell!"
Neville bobbed his head enthusiastically, reminding Harry of an over-excited weather vane. "Yes, of course you want to tell Draco about your feelings! Gran used to tell stories of when she was young. The ladies always fell for the poetry. They wanted to hear their suitors' deepest feelings for them. Malfoy didn't take you seriously the first time. How are you going to convince him otherwise?"
Harry sighed, fisting tuffs of once almost-tamed hair. He had never been the sort to openly discuss his 'deepest feelings', even with his recent attitude adjustment. It was one thing to announce intentions, that didn't involved poetry. That didn't involve saying anything. Harry didn't want to explain his feelings, not to Hermione or Neville, or anyone else. He certainly didn't want to risk an explanation to Draco.
"Why poetry? I'm doing good with flowers! I can say lots with flowers."
"Including how you can't be bothered to tell him what he means to you?" Hermione asked bluntly.
Harry squirmed, feeling trapped. "Ok, fine! But does it have to be poetry? I hate the stuff."
"You could always serenade?" Neville offered.
"Oh bloody hell, NO!"
"Harry, it doesn't have to be the Bard's best. Simply concentrate on what you feel for... Malfoy... and put it into words."
"'Simply'? Right, Hermione. Sure, I'll just send him a little scented note, written with something like, 'Daffodils are yellow, my eyes are green. I fancy you greatly, so let's get obscene'. You think that states my feelings clearly enough?"
Neville giggled, then started with the realization of exactly what Harry had said. Hermione followed quickly with a shocked gasp. Harry caught on last, blushing furiously.
"Right, then... uhhh, I think I'll give Draco another flower tomorrow..." Harry hated poetry so very much.
Author:
cocohufflepuffs
Artist:
fairy_poet
Pairings: Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom
Raitings: G
Disclaimer: Characters belong to J.K Rowling, no profits being made, JK is God.
Notes:
Hi! *waves* I have volenteered to take up where
cocohufflepuffs has left off with A Proper Courtship.
Chapter 5
"I have to WHAT?" a voice rang out from the library stacks. This time it wasn't Hermione who earned Madame Pince's scowl.
"Neville's right, Harry," Hermione confirmed dryly. Harry appreciated that she had eventually come around enough to support his research efforts, despite her obvious misgivings, but he suspected she was finding this far more entertaining than appropriate. If he didn't know better, he'd say she was making fun of him. "Poetry has always played a prominent role in the courtly traditions. The suitor professes his feelings for his intended, often in a public setting. The Victorians were especially fond of love sonnets."
"Oh, hell!"
Neville bobbed his head enthusiastically, reminding Harry of an over-excited weather vane. "Yes, of course you want to tell Draco about your feelings! Gran used to tell stories of when she was young. The ladies always fell for the poetry. They wanted to hear their suitors' deepest feelings for them. Malfoy didn't take you seriously the first time. How are you going to convince him otherwise?"
Harry sighed, fisting tuffs of once almost-tamed hair. He had never been the sort to openly discuss his 'deepest feelings', even with his recent attitude adjustment. It was one thing to announce intentions, that didn't involved poetry. That didn't involve saying anything. Harry didn't want to explain his feelings, not to Hermione or Neville, or anyone else. He certainly didn't want to risk an explanation to Draco.
"Why poetry? I'm doing good with flowers! I can say lots with flowers."
"Including how you can't be bothered to tell him what he means to you?" Hermione asked bluntly.
Harry squirmed, feeling trapped. "Ok, fine! But does it have to be poetry? I hate the stuff."
"You could always serenade?" Neville offered.
"Oh bloody hell, NO!"
"Harry, it doesn't have to be the Bard's best. Simply concentrate on what you feel for... Malfoy... and put it into words."
"'Simply'? Right, Hermione. Sure, I'll just send him a little scented note, written with something like, 'Daffodils are yellow, my eyes are green. I fancy you greatly, so let's get obscene'. You think that states my feelings clearly enough?"
Neville giggled, then started with the realization of exactly what Harry had said. Hermione followed quickly with a shocked gasp. Harry caught on last, blushing furiously.
"Right, then... uhhh, I think I'll give Draco another flower tomorrow..." Harry hated poetry so very much.