Figure it Out - Emma Watson/Genevieve Gaunt
Well, thanks to the power of movie!Pansy, I've leaped onto the Harry Potter rpfs bandwagon XD
Figure it Out - Emma Watson/Genevieve Gaunt - G. Just a silly, fluffy little tale of teenage confusion.
There’s no reasonable explanation for it, and quite frankly, Emma doesn’t feel she needs one. She simply does not like Genevieve Gaunt.
Of course they’ve never even spoken: she doesn’t need Dan to inform her of that, but naturally he does, in his charmingly cheeky manner; nor does she need Rupert to mention that she’s too pretty to play Pansy, really. Far too pretty. Very pretty indeed.
(Sometimes Emma wonders if J.K. might have met Rupert once, a long time ago, and unconsciously harkened back to that experience when she developed the character of Ron.)
She’s quite clearly the only person who seems to resent the girl’s constant presence on set, in spite of the fact that she only has one actual line. Practically every time Alfonso calls cut, the ‘Tom, Jamie and Josh Show’ starts up - a constant barrage of disparaging quips tossed back and forth between the boys until Emma wants to smack all three at once. Do they not know how ridiculous they look, showing off for a girl who so obviously isn’t interested, or even the slightest bit amused? Through each and every performance, Genevieve simply leans against the stone wall and watches, one dark eyebrow cocked just so.
Every inch of her screams Pansy Parkinson.
Except that she’s too pretty, far too pretty, very pretty indeed, and that annoys Emma most of all. Isn’t she meant to have a hard face, a nose like a pug? Hermione isn’t exactly meant to look like she’s just stepped out of a salon, remember, says Dan, rumpling his own dissheveled hair with a lopsided smile; he just wants everyone to get along, everything to be like it was during the first two movies. But Emma can’t seem to ignore the ridiculously pretty Pansy Parkinson who’s suddenly been thrust into the cast, as though they weren’t doing just fine without her.
It’s rather awkward, then, when Emma finds herself standing right next to Genevieve while crew members mask the area which will later be filled by computer-generated Buckbeak. Only it’s Genevieve who’s standing right next to her, really - one moment Emma’s speaking to Dan, and the next, a female voice answers.
“Oh, sorry,” she laughs when she notices the surprised expression on Emma’s face. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
She’s got a nice voice, soft and dusky, and her pale skin looks even more flawless at such close range. “Where did Dan go?” Emma demands archly, as though Genevieve must’ve hidden him beneath her cloak or something, just to make Emma look like a fool.
With a slight incline of her head, Genevieve directs Emma’s attention to the other side of the courtyard, where the boys have gathered and begun an impromptu game of football with a balled-up bit of masking tape. “They don’t take well to boredom, do they?” She grins loftily, a smile shared between peers, and Emma feels her spine relax slightly.
“Funny to think that they’re older than me, most of them. Sometimes I feel like a den mother with Dan and Rupert. Always keeping them in line.”
“Exactly!” Genevieve laughs brightly. “And both Pansy and Hermione are always surrounded by boys. I’ve been dying for a chance to talk to - another girl.”
Only a split-second pause, and yet Emma hears the words that were about to leave her mouth: to talk to you. It’s so obvious when Genevieve says it in her strangely adult voice, that two of the very few girls on set should seek one another out and form some sort of camaraderie. The boys have always done it effortlessly, after all, accepted new members into their fold without a second thought.
But there are other girls on set: extras, bit parts like herself, lesser-known actresses who haven’t been glaring daggers at her since her very arrival. And yet Genevieve Gaunt, with her lovely voice and flawless skin and sleek, dark hair, has been dying to speak to Emma.
There’s a strange light in her eye, almost mischevious, as she cocks her head to one side and surveys Emma curiously - like she’s known all along, and has only been waiting for Emma to figure it out.
“So have I,” Emma says softly, a hot blush spreading across her cheeks. “So have I.”
Figure it Out - Emma Watson/Genevieve Gaunt - G. Just a silly, fluffy little tale of teenage confusion.
There’s no reasonable explanation for it, and quite frankly, Emma doesn’t feel she needs one. She simply does not like Genevieve Gaunt.
Of course they’ve never even spoken: she doesn’t need Dan to inform her of that, but naturally he does, in his charmingly cheeky manner; nor does she need Rupert to mention that she’s too pretty to play Pansy, really. Far too pretty. Very pretty indeed.
(Sometimes Emma wonders if J.K. might have met Rupert once, a long time ago, and unconsciously harkened back to that experience when she developed the character of Ron.)
She’s quite clearly the only person who seems to resent the girl’s constant presence on set, in spite of the fact that she only has one actual line. Practically every time Alfonso calls cut, the ‘Tom, Jamie and Josh Show’ starts up - a constant barrage of disparaging quips tossed back and forth between the boys until Emma wants to smack all three at once. Do they not know how ridiculous they look, showing off for a girl who so obviously isn’t interested, or even the slightest bit amused? Through each and every performance, Genevieve simply leans against the stone wall and watches, one dark eyebrow cocked just so.
Every inch of her screams Pansy Parkinson.
Except that she’s too pretty, far too pretty, very pretty indeed, and that annoys Emma most of all. Isn’t she meant to have a hard face, a nose like a pug? Hermione isn’t exactly meant to look like she’s just stepped out of a salon, remember, says Dan, rumpling his own dissheveled hair with a lopsided smile; he just wants everyone to get along, everything to be like it was during the first two movies. But Emma can’t seem to ignore the ridiculously pretty Pansy Parkinson who’s suddenly been thrust into the cast, as though they weren’t doing just fine without her.
It’s rather awkward, then, when Emma finds herself standing right next to Genevieve while crew members mask the area which will later be filled by computer-generated Buckbeak. Only it’s Genevieve who’s standing right next to her, really - one moment Emma’s speaking to Dan, and the next, a female voice answers.
“Oh, sorry,” she laughs when she notices the surprised expression on Emma’s face. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”
She’s got a nice voice, soft and dusky, and her pale skin looks even more flawless at such close range. “Where did Dan go?” Emma demands archly, as though Genevieve must’ve hidden him beneath her cloak or something, just to make Emma look like a fool.
With a slight incline of her head, Genevieve directs Emma’s attention to the other side of the courtyard, where the boys have gathered and begun an impromptu game of football with a balled-up bit of masking tape. “They don’t take well to boredom, do they?” She grins loftily, a smile shared between peers, and Emma feels her spine relax slightly.
“Funny to think that they’re older than me, most of them. Sometimes I feel like a den mother with Dan and Rupert. Always keeping them in line.”
“Exactly!” Genevieve laughs brightly. “And both Pansy and Hermione are always surrounded by boys. I’ve been dying for a chance to talk to - another girl.”
Only a split-second pause, and yet Emma hears the words that were about to leave her mouth: to talk to you. It’s so obvious when Genevieve says it in her strangely adult voice, that two of the very few girls on set should seek one another out and form some sort of camaraderie. The boys have always done it effortlessly, after all, accepted new members into their fold without a second thought.
But there are other girls on set: extras, bit parts like herself, lesser-known actresses who haven’t been glaring daggers at her since her very arrival. And yet Genevieve Gaunt, with her lovely voice and flawless skin and sleek, dark hair, has been dying to speak to Emma.
There’s a strange light in her eye, almost mischevious, as she cocks her head to one side and surveys Emma curiously - like she’s known all along, and has only been waiting for Emma to figure it out.
“So have I,” Emma says softly, a hot blush spreading across her cheeks. “So have I.”