Challenge Two: Blue Voting!
Time to Vote!
Please read the voting rules:
1. Do not vote for yourself and do not ask others to vote for you.
2. All LDWS participants are REQUIRED to vote.
3. Vote for one MOST and one LEAST favorite drabble.
4. Please vote for the NUMBER of the drabble, not the name of it.
5. Voting will close Friday at 11:59pm EST
6. Please remember the prompts when voting: “Artists can color the sky red because they know it's blue. Those of us who aren't artists must color things the way they really are or people might think we're stupid.” - Jules Feiffier
AND/OR
1.
Author: akashathekitty
Title: Pansy's Change
Words 200
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Pansy had always been a good girl. She’d been sorted into Slytherin, she’d gone out with Draco Malfoy, and she’d mercilessly mocked those that her society had deemed either inferior or a threat to her. Life was easy.
Then one day lightning had struck and everything had changed. That strange, fateful day, she’d for some reason that she could never herself understand let Ronald Weasley kiss her, and it had been the end of the world as she knew it. Everything she’d thought she knew about the universe had been proven wrong, and she’d realised that not only did nothing make sense anymore-it didn’t even have to!
Since then she’d enjoyed her strawberries best when they were charmed blue, her feet best bare (at all occasions) and her lover best red-haired and dirt poor.
People she’d known all her life thought she’d gone completely bonkers, but Pansy just laughed at them shaking their heads in bewilderment. She didn’t care what any of them thought any longer. She’d realised that their rules were more arbitrary than the universe itself. She’d always done what they’d expected of her, but now she was beyond rules.
She was finally happy. Life was good.
2.
Author: swimnsail
Title: Cooking
Words: 313
Rating: G
Warnings: None
If there was one thing that Ron Weasley knew with all certainty, it was food. He knew the subtle difference between a sweet potato and a yam. He knew just the right temperature for cooking triple-chocolate peppermint brownies and exactly how long they should be cooking for.
Thankfully, he had grown up with Mrs. Weasley as his Mother who loved food almost as much as he did.
So, it was with great trepidation that he gazed at the food in front of him.
Pansy had made him one of his favorite dishes, a strawberry rhubarb crumble. Usually, he would have fallen on the dish as soon as it had been put in front of him, salivating over the delicious smell, and the gooey red syrup that would ooze slightly out of the pastry.
Today however, he contemplated whether eating it would be the best decision he had ever made. Granted, he had not always made the most sensible choices in his life. But, eating this pie did not seem like such a wise decision, considering that this pie was in fact oozing blue.
But, he also knew his wife's temper. And between the choice of facing that, or eating blue pie, he thought the one that would probably hurt less was the pie.
“This looks delicious,” he said carefully, keeping careful note of her actions.
“I know.” She smiled smugly at him, before handing him a fork.
“It looks so, blue.” He smiled weakly.
She frowned in contemplation. “Yes, I'm not quite sure how that happened. I was putting in the strawberries and they had some green on them, so that might have done it!” She said cheerfully.
“Green? You mean on the top. The stalk?”
“No, silly, on the bottom.”
Ron looked at the pie once more. Then back at his wife. Food poisoning, or wife's temper? He picked up his fork.
3.
Author: cassie_black12
Title: Skies Are Blue
Words: 448
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
For as long as he can remember, Ron Weasley's had a dream: to join the Aurors, fight Dark Wizards, to be somebody.
A stray curse during training puts an end to that. Friendly fire they call it - it doesn't feel all that friendly to Ron as he sits in St Mungo's, his thigh flayed down to the bone, but he thinks of George's ear, Bill's scars, of Fred, and tries to count his blessings. They patch him up and send him home, and Ron tries not to see the pitying looks sent in his direction. The limp isn't that noticeable they tell him, but it's enough just the same.
-----
Ron has a new dream now. She's got a razor sharp tongue, a sarcastic wit, and a knowledge of dark hexes that makes Ron wonder if he really should sleep with one eye open. But she's smart and funny and doesn't get annoyed when Ron's mum 'pops' round unannounced, and what's more, she chose him.
-----
It's not always plain sailing, though. There's bills to be paid and Pansy likes to spend and though she insists she earns enough that he doesn't need to worry, he does. He knows times have changed, that most women have careers nowadays, and he doesn't begrudge Pansy that. It's not his wife's success that leaves a sour taste in his mouth, it's the lack of his own.
Since the Aurors, Ron's tried a few different jobs, but none have worked out. Offices and ties make him claustrophobic, it seems, and as hard as he tries, because he feels that he should, it just makes him miserable. In the end it's Pansy who tells him to leave, that she just wants him happy, that no pay packet is worth that much.
-----
It's Neville who solves the problem, offers Ron a job. It's outdoors most of the time, apart from the greenhouses, and though Ron doesn't remember being particularly adept at Herbology, he finds he enjoys it.
He's green-fingered, according to Neville, and when Ron finally understands this is a good thing, he swells with pride. It's been so long since he's felt like a success, too much time spent listening to his inner critic had him believing the worst.
And when he goes home to Pansy at the end of the day, she doesn't mind the muddy boots, the dirt under his fingernails, even the calluses on his palms, and Ron feels like a man, finally. And being an Auror, well, maybe that would have been good, too, but the way Ron sees it, everything in his life so far has brought him to this point, and he can't think of anywhere he'd rather be.
4.
Author: bendleshnitz1
Title: Blue Hearts
Words: 326
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
"What ya doin', love?"
"Painting."
"Oh, that's nice. May I join you?" Ron sat by her side and watched the crayon leaving its trace over the white paper. "That's beautiful, honey; but are you sure you want to choose that colour?"
"Yes."
"Baby, hearts are red; not blue. Here's a red crayon that-"
"Ron, leave Molly alone," Pansy warned with a small smile from the kitchen.
Her big eyes sparkled with amusement as she watched her fiance looking worriedly at the blue heart his niece was colouring.
"I'm just saying. Hearts are red."
"Says who?" she challenged, quirking a perfectly shaped eyebrow.
"Says...everybody! C'mon, Pansy. Don't do this to me. Do you know how Percy will get when he sees his daughter doing things...against the rules?" His blue eyes opened widely at the prospect of having his older brother lecturing him and poor Molly on the matter.
"Well, that's because your brother has a stick up his-" Pansy paused, noticing the eager three year old listening intently to every word she was saying. "Nose. A stick up his nose," she finished in a very serious tone.
Molly giggled, covering her mouth with her hand and looking at her uncle's reaction.
"Nose? Really? You couldn't come up with something better?" Ron teased her, suppressing a smile.
"Oh, shut up," she said rolling her eyes and going back to the kitchen.
She hadn't even reached the stove where their lunch was being cooked when she felt Ron's arms around her waist. Pressing his chest against her back, he kissed her neck in a slow, loving way.
"My heart is blue, because I love you," he whispered against her pale cheek.
"Twee, Weasley, very twee," she said patting his cheek and leaning against him.
"Only twee for you," he answered in a singing tone.
His laughter vibrating against her skin sent shivers down her spine. "Good. Now go check on Molly. I'm afraid she'll paint the sky yellow next."
5.
Author: roses_at_sunset
Title: Now Where's the Whipped Cream?
Words: 286
Rating: R
Warnings: A touch of smut
Pansy shoved Ron's feet off of the sofa so that she could sit down. They landed on the floor with a thud. He put down the Quidditch pages of the Daily Prophet and glared at her.
"What was that for?" he demanded.
Pansy quirked an eyebrow at his tone. "Well, if you are going to be like that, I'll just take dessert back to the kitchen then, shall I?"
Suddenly, Ron felt much more charitable about Pansy having that end of the sofa, but it didn't last long when his gaze fell to the plate in her hand. "What the hell are those?"
Pansy smiled serenely back at him. "Strawberries," she said with the dangerous sweetness that Ron knew was always a prelude to trouble.
"But strawberries aren't blue," Ron argued.
"They are if you put a Freezing Charm on them."
"But why would-"
Ron didn't get to finish his sentence, because Pansy leaned across to silence him with a kiss, but just as he was starting to rather enjoy himself, something icy cold trailed along his jaw line, and he pulled back with a yelp to see Pansy brandishing one of the strawberries with a wicked grin.
"Oh so that's the game then, is it?" Ron said with a laugh, pushing her back so that she lay pinned beneath him and seizing the strawberry from her. "Well, two can play at that."
"I was hoping you'd say that," Pansy murmured languidly, arching her back as he loosened the tie of her satin dressing gown and trailed both kisses and the strawberry across her breasts, the alternating sensations making her squirm deliciously, before he raised the strawberry to her lips.
"Now where's the whipped cream?"
6.
Author: persephone33
Title: The Average Wizard
Words: 449
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
The door chimes jingled merrily as Ron sauntered into La Belle Pensée. 'The Beautiful Pansy,' indeed, Ron thought as he rolled his eyes. The posh name of the dress shop, the lavender awnings and banks of purple and yellow pansies outside were a bit much for the average wizard, but many people said Pansy Parkinson, expert dressmaker, was a touch hard to take, as well. Ron was only there at all because his girlfriend asked him, rather persuasively, to give his opinion on her gown for the Ministry Ball.
He sighed deeply. The things he did for love.
And mind-blowing sex. He couldn't forget that.
Hearing voices, Ron stooped slightly, peering between two dress racks to watch the owner and a petite, blonde customer conversing.
"But," the girl hedged, "it's blue."
Pansy nodded once. "It's cerulean."
"Whatever the name of the shade is," the customer pressed. "It's blue."
The girl obviously didn't know the woman to whom she was speaking. Ron watched as Pansy turned, raised an eyebrow and murmured, "Your powers of observation are astounding, Miss Butler. Your gown is, indeed, blue. Well done."
"But blue isn't my color," the girl protested in a whine.
"Isn't it?" Pansy asked, her voice dangerously low.
"No?" The girl sounded unsure, and Ron shook his head, suppressing a chuckle. Rumors ran wild that it was unwise to show weakness to the proprietor of La Belle Pensée. He couldn’t help feeling sorry for the girl.
Not sorry enough to interrupt, though.
"Miss Butler, I, an artist, designed that gown. I chose everything from the opal fasteners to the pin tucks and darts expertly hiding your considerable number of personal flaws. Do you think, even for a moment, I hadn't noticed the Turkish Velvet fabric I chose, was, in fact, blue?"
"I- er," the girl stuttered.
Pansy's wand whipped in a flourish, the dress disappeared and the girl was left standing in her slip. "I suggest that you take some time to think about my artistic talent for matching the color of gown to the witch, and my astoundingly high number of satisfied customers. If you want to choose your color, I suggest Heliotrope's."
Pansy waved her hand. "You are dismissed." The blonde grabbed her robes and dashed from the shop. Then Pansy called, "Ron Weasley, I see you skulking around."
He stood to his full height and shuffled to her desk. "My girlfriend requested I come to see some dresses?"
"Mmm,” she murmured. “And would you like to watch her try them on?" Pansy asked, her mouth curving in a tiny smile.
"God, yes."
As his girlfriend pulled him toward the fitting room, Ron silently thanked Merlin he wasn't the average wizard.
7.
Author: kate0404
Title: My Secret, My Love
Words: 448
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
“No, Ron, we can’t.” Tears welled into the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She had already cried too many nights because of this same argument and she wouldn’t let it happen again.
Ron stood in front of her, his face looking defeated and tired, but he didn’t respond. It hurt her to see him this way. She missed his spark and his fire and his passion.
She wanted it back.
She needed it back.
They needed it back.
Pansy moved forward, but Ron tightened his grip on his wand and took a step back. She sighed, “I know it’s not fair, but it’s also not time.” She watched his jaw tighten, the tense muscles twitched. She wanted to reach out, press her hand against his cheek and gently sooth away his stress. She wanted to tell him that everything was going to be fine, that he just needed to trust her, and that she’d be ready soon.
But it would be a lie.
Pansy had realized their relationship needed to be a secret after their first date...
...The date where he had been awkward and she had been snooty; and she had argued with him over nothing because she had felt unsure; and he had nearly caught himself on fire with the candle on the table while trying to make a hasty getaway; and she had run after him without hesitation, shouting an apology; and he had stopped her rambling explanation by kissing her soundly while standing in the middle of the street, causing her toes to curl and her breath to hitch...
...The date that had ended up in the paper, condemning him as a traitor and she an evil seductress, marring his perfect Auror reputation.
Ron had said it would be okay, that people would get over it.
She knew they wouldn’t.
The decision had been hard on her, because she wanted everyone to know they loved each other, but it had been much harder on Ron. Pansy’s family was gone, and her friends were few and far between. She had no one to tell.
However, Ron desperately wanted to tell his friends. They’ll understand, he’d said. But Pansy was skeptical, so he kept quiet because he loved her.
Shaking her head, Pansy took another step forward and this time he didn’t move away. She gently wrapped her fingers around his rigid, white knuckles, and felt his grip ease, stopping him from accidently blowing up the strawberries left from their forgotten dessert, rather than just turning them blue.
She kissed the corner of his mouth. “Soon,” she murmured when he didn’t speak. “I promise.”
She wished it wasn’t a lie.
8.
Author: leigh_adams
Title: Sunrise
Words: 444
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Ron always relished early mornings at Parkinson Manor. The estate and its sweeping grounds were quiet; a welcome change of pace after a childhood at the Burrow. Even now, his flat above George’s shop was constantly bombarded by sounds coming from the surrounding alleys. Here, everything was quiet. Too quiet.
Glancing to the side, his brow furrowed when he didn’t see the pale body of his girlfriend lying by his side. Pansy rarely rose before he did; her leisurely lifestyle’s definition of early was several hours after Ron’s.
Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Ron reached for his wand and summoned his trousers. Pansy was somewhere in the Manor, and he was determined to find her. Besides, wherever she was, coffee was sure to be as well.
It didn’t take long to find her. After a leisurely amble through the private wing, he came upon her in the solarium. Her back was to him, and Ron could see the corner of a large canvas peeking over her shoulder. She hadn’t heard his footsteps, so he took the provided moment to just look at her. Her silk robe had slipped on one side, exposing her pale shoulder to the early morning light, and he could see the outline of her nubile body through the wispy silk that his her skin from his view.
He’d never seen her paint before. She had told him once, a long time ago, that she had enjoyed painting when she was young; it was an activity she and her mother would undertake together.
To his knowledge, she hadn’t painted since her mother had been killed.
Unable to resist the urge any longer, Ron crossed the room and stopped just behind her, letting his hands rest on her slender waist. He ducked his head, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair before he placed a tender kiss to the side of her neck.
“Morning, love,” he murmured in greeting.
A slight shiver ran over her smooth skin as she murmured, “Good morning,” in reply.
Ron pulled back to look at the painting, lips twitching in amusement. “You do know that the sky is blue, not red, right?”
“We live in England, Ronald, the sky is gray,” Pansy answered, glancing up to meet his gaze. “Besides, I’m painting the sunrise.”
“Shouldn’t there be more pink?” he asked, glancing down at her quizzically.
Pansy’s lips twitched as she reached up and twined her fingers through his hair. “I like red better,” she murmured, pulling him closer to her before she whispered, “it reminds me of you.”
No more words were necessary as their lips met in a soft, slow kiss.
------------------------------
Poll Ron Pansy Round 1, Challenge 2
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Round One, Challenge 2
Colors of Love
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Round One, Challenge 2
Colors of Love
Click the banner to VOTE NOW AT!
Please read the voting rules:
1. Do not vote for yourself and do not ask others to vote for you.
2. All LDWS participants are REQUIRED to vote.
3. Vote for one MOST and one LEAST favorite drabble.
4. Please vote for the NUMBER of the drabble, not the name of it.
5. Voting will close Friday at 11:59pm EST
6. Please remember the prompts when voting: “Artists can color the sky red because they know it's blue. Those of us who aren't artists must color things the way they really are or people might think we're stupid.” - Jules Feiffier
AND/OR
1.
Author: akashathekitty
Title: Pansy's Change
Words 200
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Pansy had always been a good girl. She’d been sorted into Slytherin, she’d gone out with Draco Malfoy, and she’d mercilessly mocked those that her society had deemed either inferior or a threat to her. Life was easy.
Then one day lightning had struck and everything had changed. That strange, fateful day, she’d for some reason that she could never herself understand let Ronald Weasley kiss her, and it had been the end of the world as she knew it. Everything she’d thought she knew about the universe had been proven wrong, and she’d realised that not only did nothing make sense anymore-it didn’t even have to!
Since then she’d enjoyed her strawberries best when they were charmed blue, her feet best bare (at all occasions) and her lover best red-haired and dirt poor.
People she’d known all her life thought she’d gone completely bonkers, but Pansy just laughed at them shaking their heads in bewilderment. She didn’t care what any of them thought any longer. She’d realised that their rules were more arbitrary than the universe itself. She’d always done what they’d expected of her, but now she was beyond rules.
She was finally happy. Life was good.
2.
Author: swimnsail
Title: Cooking
Words: 313
Rating: G
Warnings: None
If there was one thing that Ron Weasley knew with all certainty, it was food. He knew the subtle difference between a sweet potato and a yam. He knew just the right temperature for cooking triple-chocolate peppermint brownies and exactly how long they should be cooking for.
Thankfully, he had grown up with Mrs. Weasley as his Mother who loved food almost as much as he did.
So, it was with great trepidation that he gazed at the food in front of him.
Pansy had made him one of his favorite dishes, a strawberry rhubarb crumble. Usually, he would have fallen on the dish as soon as it had been put in front of him, salivating over the delicious smell, and the gooey red syrup that would ooze slightly out of the pastry.
Today however, he contemplated whether eating it would be the best decision he had ever made. Granted, he had not always made the most sensible choices in his life. But, eating this pie did not seem like such a wise decision, considering that this pie was in fact oozing blue.
But, he also knew his wife's temper. And between the choice of facing that, or eating blue pie, he thought the one that would probably hurt less was the pie.
“This looks delicious,” he said carefully, keeping careful note of her actions.
“I know.” She smiled smugly at him, before handing him a fork.
“It looks so, blue.” He smiled weakly.
She frowned in contemplation. “Yes, I'm not quite sure how that happened. I was putting in the strawberries and they had some green on them, so that might have done it!” She said cheerfully.
“Green? You mean on the top. The stalk?”
“No, silly, on the bottom.”
Ron looked at the pie once more. Then back at his wife. Food poisoning, or wife's temper? He picked up his fork.
3.
Author: cassie_black12
Title: Skies Are Blue
Words: 448
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
For as long as he can remember, Ron Weasley's had a dream: to join the Aurors, fight Dark Wizards, to be somebody.
A stray curse during training puts an end to that. Friendly fire they call it - it doesn't feel all that friendly to Ron as he sits in St Mungo's, his thigh flayed down to the bone, but he thinks of George's ear, Bill's scars, of Fred, and tries to count his blessings. They patch him up and send him home, and Ron tries not to see the pitying looks sent in his direction. The limp isn't that noticeable they tell him, but it's enough just the same.
-----
Ron has a new dream now. She's got a razor sharp tongue, a sarcastic wit, and a knowledge of dark hexes that makes Ron wonder if he really should sleep with one eye open. But she's smart and funny and doesn't get annoyed when Ron's mum 'pops' round unannounced, and what's more, she chose him.
-----
It's not always plain sailing, though. There's bills to be paid and Pansy likes to spend and though she insists she earns enough that he doesn't need to worry, he does. He knows times have changed, that most women have careers nowadays, and he doesn't begrudge Pansy that. It's not his wife's success that leaves a sour taste in his mouth, it's the lack of his own.
Since the Aurors, Ron's tried a few different jobs, but none have worked out. Offices and ties make him claustrophobic, it seems, and as hard as he tries, because he feels that he should, it just makes him miserable. In the end it's Pansy who tells him to leave, that she just wants him happy, that no pay packet is worth that much.
-----
It's Neville who solves the problem, offers Ron a job. It's outdoors most of the time, apart from the greenhouses, and though Ron doesn't remember being particularly adept at Herbology, he finds he enjoys it.
He's green-fingered, according to Neville, and when Ron finally understands this is a good thing, he swells with pride. It's been so long since he's felt like a success, too much time spent listening to his inner critic had him believing the worst.
And when he goes home to Pansy at the end of the day, she doesn't mind the muddy boots, the dirt under his fingernails, even the calluses on his palms, and Ron feels like a man, finally. And being an Auror, well, maybe that would have been good, too, but the way Ron sees it, everything in his life so far has brought him to this point, and he can't think of anywhere he'd rather be.
4.
Author: bendleshnitz1
Title: Blue Hearts
Words: 326
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
"What ya doin', love?"
"Painting."
"Oh, that's nice. May I join you?" Ron sat by her side and watched the crayon leaving its trace over the white paper. "That's beautiful, honey; but are you sure you want to choose that colour?"
"Yes."
"Baby, hearts are red; not blue. Here's a red crayon that-"
"Ron, leave Molly alone," Pansy warned with a small smile from the kitchen.
Her big eyes sparkled with amusement as she watched her fiance looking worriedly at the blue heart his niece was colouring.
"I'm just saying. Hearts are red."
"Says who?" she challenged, quirking a perfectly shaped eyebrow.
"Says...everybody! C'mon, Pansy. Don't do this to me. Do you know how Percy will get when he sees his daughter doing things...against the rules?" His blue eyes opened widely at the prospect of having his older brother lecturing him and poor Molly on the matter.
"Well, that's because your brother has a stick up his-" Pansy paused, noticing the eager three year old listening intently to every word she was saying. "Nose. A stick up his nose," she finished in a very serious tone.
Molly giggled, covering her mouth with her hand and looking at her uncle's reaction.
"Nose? Really? You couldn't come up with something better?" Ron teased her, suppressing a smile.
"Oh, shut up," she said rolling her eyes and going back to the kitchen.
She hadn't even reached the stove where their lunch was being cooked when she felt Ron's arms around her waist. Pressing his chest against her back, he kissed her neck in a slow, loving way.
"My heart is blue, because I love you," he whispered against her pale cheek.
"Twee, Weasley, very twee," she said patting his cheek and leaning against him.
"Only twee for you," he answered in a singing tone.
His laughter vibrating against her skin sent shivers down her spine. "Good. Now go check on Molly. I'm afraid she'll paint the sky yellow next."
5.
Author: roses_at_sunset
Title: Now Where's the Whipped Cream?
Words: 286
Rating: R
Warnings: A touch of smut
Pansy shoved Ron's feet off of the sofa so that she could sit down. They landed on the floor with a thud. He put down the Quidditch pages of the Daily Prophet and glared at her.
"What was that for?" he demanded.
Pansy quirked an eyebrow at his tone. "Well, if you are going to be like that, I'll just take dessert back to the kitchen then, shall I?"
Suddenly, Ron felt much more charitable about Pansy having that end of the sofa, but it didn't last long when his gaze fell to the plate in her hand. "What the hell are those?"
Pansy smiled serenely back at him. "Strawberries," she said with the dangerous sweetness that Ron knew was always a prelude to trouble.
"But strawberries aren't blue," Ron argued.
"They are if you put a Freezing Charm on them."
"But why would-"
Ron didn't get to finish his sentence, because Pansy leaned across to silence him with a kiss, but just as he was starting to rather enjoy himself, something icy cold trailed along his jaw line, and he pulled back with a yelp to see Pansy brandishing one of the strawberries with a wicked grin.
"Oh so that's the game then, is it?" Ron said with a laugh, pushing her back so that she lay pinned beneath him and seizing the strawberry from her. "Well, two can play at that."
"I was hoping you'd say that," Pansy murmured languidly, arching her back as he loosened the tie of her satin dressing gown and trailed both kisses and the strawberry across her breasts, the alternating sensations making her squirm deliciously, before he raised the strawberry to her lips.
"Now where's the whipped cream?"
6.
Author: persephone33
Title: The Average Wizard
Words: 449
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
The door chimes jingled merrily as Ron sauntered into La Belle Pensée. 'The Beautiful Pansy,' indeed, Ron thought as he rolled his eyes. The posh name of the dress shop, the lavender awnings and banks of purple and yellow pansies outside were a bit much for the average wizard, but many people said Pansy Parkinson, expert dressmaker, was a touch hard to take, as well. Ron was only there at all because his girlfriend asked him, rather persuasively, to give his opinion on her gown for the Ministry Ball.
He sighed deeply. The things he did for love.
And mind-blowing sex. He couldn't forget that.
Hearing voices, Ron stooped slightly, peering between two dress racks to watch the owner and a petite, blonde customer conversing.
"But," the girl hedged, "it's blue."
Pansy nodded once. "It's cerulean."
"Whatever the name of the shade is," the customer pressed. "It's blue."
The girl obviously didn't know the woman to whom she was speaking. Ron watched as Pansy turned, raised an eyebrow and murmured, "Your powers of observation are astounding, Miss Butler. Your gown is, indeed, blue. Well done."
"But blue isn't my color," the girl protested in a whine.
"Isn't it?" Pansy asked, her voice dangerously low.
"No?" The girl sounded unsure, and Ron shook his head, suppressing a chuckle. Rumors ran wild that it was unwise to show weakness to the proprietor of La Belle Pensée. He couldn’t help feeling sorry for the girl.
Not sorry enough to interrupt, though.
"Miss Butler, I, an artist, designed that gown. I chose everything from the opal fasteners to the pin tucks and darts expertly hiding your considerable number of personal flaws. Do you think, even for a moment, I hadn't noticed the Turkish Velvet fabric I chose, was, in fact, blue?"
"I- er," the girl stuttered.
Pansy's wand whipped in a flourish, the dress disappeared and the girl was left standing in her slip. "I suggest that you take some time to think about my artistic talent for matching the color of gown to the witch, and my astoundingly high number of satisfied customers. If you want to choose your color, I suggest Heliotrope's."
Pansy waved her hand. "You are dismissed." The blonde grabbed her robes and dashed from the shop. Then Pansy called, "Ron Weasley, I see you skulking around."
He stood to his full height and shuffled to her desk. "My girlfriend requested I come to see some dresses?"
"Mmm,” she murmured. “And would you like to watch her try them on?" Pansy asked, her mouth curving in a tiny smile.
"God, yes."
As his girlfriend pulled him toward the fitting room, Ron silently thanked Merlin he wasn't the average wizard.
7.
Author: kate0404
Title: My Secret, My Love
Words: 448
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
“No, Ron, we can’t.” Tears welled into the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She had already cried too many nights because of this same argument and she wouldn’t let it happen again.
Ron stood in front of her, his face looking defeated and tired, but he didn’t respond. It hurt her to see him this way. She missed his spark and his fire and his passion.
She wanted it back.
She needed it back.
They needed it back.
Pansy moved forward, but Ron tightened his grip on his wand and took a step back. She sighed, “I know it’s not fair, but it’s also not time.” She watched his jaw tighten, the tense muscles twitched. She wanted to reach out, press her hand against his cheek and gently sooth away his stress. She wanted to tell him that everything was going to be fine, that he just needed to trust her, and that she’d be ready soon.
But it would be a lie.
Pansy had realized their relationship needed to be a secret after their first date...
...The date where he had been awkward and she had been snooty; and she had argued with him over nothing because she had felt unsure; and he had nearly caught himself on fire with the candle on the table while trying to make a hasty getaway; and she had run after him without hesitation, shouting an apology; and he had stopped her rambling explanation by kissing her soundly while standing in the middle of the street, causing her toes to curl and her breath to hitch...
...The date that had ended up in the paper, condemning him as a traitor and she an evil seductress, marring his perfect Auror reputation.
Ron had said it would be okay, that people would get over it.
She knew they wouldn’t.
The decision had been hard on her, because she wanted everyone to know they loved each other, but it had been much harder on Ron. Pansy’s family was gone, and her friends were few and far between. She had no one to tell.
However, Ron desperately wanted to tell his friends. They’ll understand, he’d said. But Pansy was skeptical, so he kept quiet because he loved her.
Shaking her head, Pansy took another step forward and this time he didn’t move away. She gently wrapped her fingers around his rigid, white knuckles, and felt his grip ease, stopping him from accidently blowing up the strawberries left from their forgotten dessert, rather than just turning them blue.
She kissed the corner of his mouth. “Soon,” she murmured when he didn’t speak. “I promise.”
She wished it wasn’t a lie.
8.
Author: leigh_adams
Title: Sunrise
Words: 444
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Ron always relished early mornings at Parkinson Manor. The estate and its sweeping grounds were quiet; a welcome change of pace after a childhood at the Burrow. Even now, his flat above George’s shop was constantly bombarded by sounds coming from the surrounding alleys. Here, everything was quiet. Too quiet.
Glancing to the side, his brow furrowed when he didn’t see the pale body of his girlfriend lying by his side. Pansy rarely rose before he did; her leisurely lifestyle’s definition of early was several hours after Ron’s.
Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Ron reached for his wand and summoned his trousers. Pansy was somewhere in the Manor, and he was determined to find her. Besides, wherever she was, coffee was sure to be as well.
It didn’t take long to find her. After a leisurely amble through the private wing, he came upon her in the solarium. Her back was to him, and Ron could see the corner of a large canvas peeking over her shoulder. She hadn’t heard his footsteps, so he took the provided moment to just look at her. Her silk robe had slipped on one side, exposing her pale shoulder to the early morning light, and he could see the outline of her nubile body through the wispy silk that his her skin from his view.
He’d never seen her paint before. She had told him once, a long time ago, that she had enjoyed painting when she was young; it was an activity she and her mother would undertake together.
To his knowledge, she hadn’t painted since her mother had been killed.
Unable to resist the urge any longer, Ron crossed the room and stopped just behind her, letting his hands rest on her slender waist. He ducked his head, inhaling the sweet scent of her hair before he placed a tender kiss to the side of her neck.
“Morning, love,” he murmured in greeting.
A slight shiver ran over her smooth skin as she murmured, “Good morning,” in reply.
Ron pulled back to look at the painting, lips twitching in amusement. “You do know that the sky is blue, not red, right?”
“We live in England, Ronald, the sky is gray,” Pansy answered, glancing up to meet his gaze. “Besides, I’m painting the sunrise.”
“Shouldn’t there be more pink?” he asked, glancing down at her quizzically.
Pansy’s lips twitched as she reached up and twined her fingers through his hair. “I like red better,” she murmured, pulling him closer to her before she whispered, “it reminds me of you.”
No more words were necessary as their lips met in a soft, slow kiss.
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