Round 2, Challenge 11; Voting
Sorry I'm late, there's a rather boring but embarrassing reason why: I forgot. Fail.
Just a reminder for this week and the remaining week, participants are no longer allowed to vote in the competition. Ta :)
Below the cuts are the drabbles and the poll for the eleventh challenge of Round 2 of rwhg_ldws.
If you wish to submit your scores as a comment, please feel free to do so, the comments to this post are screened.
Like last time I did this, there are two drabbles from each participant and therefore two scales of 5 to give a total mark out of 10.
• Please mark both the drabbles out of 5
• Please mark all of the drabbles. If you don't, none of your scores will count.
• If you are taking part please do not vote.
• The order of the drabbles is random.
Challenge 11: Drabbles
Drabble 1 & 2
Author: wanderhomeagain
Title: Slow Thaw
Rating: G
Word Count: 300 each
A/N(optional):
She realises that she's letting him back into her good graces too easily. She shouldn't be so happy that he backed her up last night when she told Harry that she wanted to speak with Xenophilius Lovegood. It should bother her that he's so quick to agree with her.
He's never, not once in the last six-and-a-half years, been so willing to bow down to her wishes.
It should be disconcerting, but for some reason it's not.
He's making an effort.
She can tell that he's remorseful. It's been days since he returned and his guilt still covers him like a shroud. The only other time she's ever seen him look quite like this was after the first task in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and only after Harry was nearly killed.
His hand lingers on her arm for two seconds too long when they Disapparate from camp and her heart begins to pound a little harder. It's the first time he's touched her since he's returned. Not that she had any choice in the matter- he had to touch her to travel- but she still feels that familiar jolt rush down her spine like it always did when they came into physical contact when they were still on speaking terms.
It is when he hangs his head and says that he didn't go home for Christmas- denied himself the pleasure of Molly's cooking, the warmth that always permeates the Burrow- that she begins to really and truly forgive him.
And it is when he stands up to Mr. Lovegood, when he calls the man out for encouraging people to help Harry and then refusing to do so himself, that her knees begin to feel weak, and she is reminded of all the reasons she fell for him in the first place.
******
It's been years since they've made each other this angry. Usually if they row they spend a half-hour fuming and then a couple of hours thinking it over, and then he apologises and she forgives him, or sometimes it's the other way around, but it's always over and done with within a day. Two at the absolute most.
This time, it's been nearly two weeks since she's even spoken to him. He's been sleeping in the guestroom for thirteen nights, and when he wakes every morning his back hurts, but that's not what he's worried about.
He wants to touch her again, to feel her in his arms. He wants to hear what she has to say- about work, or politics, or about the kids- he really doesn't care what.
He forgave her days ago, really, but it's as if she can't forgive herself. Her words were hateful, to be sure, but he cannot comfort her, cannot tell her that it's all right, that he knows she didn't mean it, until she convinces herself of it.
So he side-steps around it.
He tells her that dinner was wonderful and she rolls her eyes, and points to the takeaway cartons- which is, he thinks, at least an acknowledgment that he lives in the same house. He doesn't even hear her muttering to herself in her office like she normally does when she's doing paperwork in the evenings and he's in the den listening to Quidditch on the wireless.
She's been like this for years, giving the cold shoulder to the ones that she's the most angry at.
He's nearly asleep, hoping that he managed to find a comfy spot on the lumpy mattress, and doesn't hear her come in, doesn't realise she's there, until she lays a hand on his arm.
Drabble 3 & 4
Author: queenb23more
Title: In Love and War - Part I
Rating: PG
Word Count: 300
A/N (optional): a bit of dialogue borrowed from Deathly Hallows and preumes that the kiss Harry witnesses was not the first
Hermione glowers at Ron when he claps Harry on the shoulder, gloating that he’s been overruled, before venturing a glance at her out of the corner of his eye as if expecting some sort of gratitude.
She wants to inform him that if he’s waiting for a thank you, he’ll be waiting for quite some time.
Does he really believe that by agreeing with her that they visit Mr Lovegood, she’ll simply give in and forgive him for the pain he has caused?
He left her.
He admitted that he had heard her calling after him but had gone anyway.
Even after the stolen moments and feverish kisses they had shared and the promises they had made to one another…she had thought they meant as much to Ron as they had to her.
And yet, she has to acknowledge that he has been trying, admitting to herself, rather reluctantly, that her resolve is weakening, and he’s making himself more and more difficult for her to ignore.
Irritated by her lack of strength, she turns and returns to her bunk, her jaw set and her face stony. She picks up her book and pretends to resume reading, even though her attention is focused acutely on Ron and Harry, who is accusing Ron of agreeing simply to return to her good graces.
“All’s fair in love and war, and this is a bit of both.”
Pleased to be safely hidden behind The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore, Hermione’s lips curve into the slightest of smiles at Ron’s reply.
He still has a lot to prove and she isn’t ready to forgive him just yet. But for the first time since he returned to them the day before, Hermione believes that day will come and it might be sooner rather than later.
Title: In Love and War - Part II
Ron suspects, briefly, that it’s because he sided with her about Xenophilius Lovegood, but as they Apparate to a hillside overlooking Ottery St. Catchpole, he decides ‘the why’ isn’t important. Whatever the reason, Hermione actually spoke to him that morning, somewhat civilly, and for the first time since getting back to her and Harry, he is hopeful that something decent is going to happen.
His heart tightens as they stare in the direction of the Burrow; it hurts to be so near and unable to go home, but it sinks when Hermione’s snide remark that he was just there for Christmas hits a nerve he cannot suppress.
“I wasn’t at the Burrow!” Ron exclaims, explaining defensively that he’d been at Shell Cottage. He turns away with a heavy but determined heart and suggests that they try another direction.
He understands Hermione’s initial reaction to his return and why it was difficult for her, although he had hoped it would be different and rather than pummeling him, she would have been so relieved that she had thrown her arms around his neck and snogged him like she has the past several months whenever they’ve managed moments alone.
But her continued anger has unnerved him.
Doesn’t she realise that if he could change the past, he would?
That he wouldn’t have been blinded by the locket and believed that she really wanted Harry and had merely settled for him.
That he wouldn’t have stormed off and left her all alone, crying and calling his name.
Doesn’t she realise that he’s really trying to make it up to her?
They trudge along in silence, and he wonders, dejectedly, whether she will ever forgive him.
But when Hermione surreptitiously brushes his hand and looks at him almost longingly, Ron’s hope is sparked once more.
Drabble 5 & 6
Author: belladonna803
Title: By Degrees
Rating: PG
Word Count: 300 + 300 = 600
A/N(optional): None.
It wasn't an immediate thing, falling in love with Ron.
No overwhelming brainwaves of certainty came, no heart-tipped arrows struck, and time did not stand still. Even friendship seemed unlikely.
Just as I can resolutely, unequivocally, incontrovertibly tell you today that Ron is the love of my life, and I would be lost without him, I can also say that it was a slow thing, growing and maturing by degrees.
What Ron and I did have from the very start was a sort of chemistry; the ability to get under each other's skin, whether we were actively trying to or not. And maybe that was the building block. It's hard to say. The art of love is a wondrous and sometimes frightening thing, but the how and why of it will always remain a mystery.
So we bristled, jostled, and jockeyed, building a connection little by little. More than once that link was dashed apart. The pain of it was sharp edged and ruthless, but sometimes learning to fall in love is like that.
I said falling in love with Ron wasn't immediate, and that's the truth. It shouldn't have come as a surprise, then, to realise that I had, right? Yet another lesson: being in love, and knowing it? Two entirely different things.
I began to catch myself enjoying the way he towered over me, the way he made me laugh, the way his eyes shined with enthusiasm when he was happy. I wanted him to look at me like that.
But we hadn't quite bridged our insecurities just yet. Being and knowing are part of it, yes. But it also takes believing that you're good enough for that love.
Belief took longer for Ron than for me, but that was all right. He was absolutely worth the wait.
~*~
Hugo was right where Ron'd expected him to be. It was little more than snow-dusted mud, but Hugo was tossing pebbles into the pond. They clickety-clacked against the ice, and Ron could tell by the force with which they were being thrown that something was wrong. Ron thought he knew what it might be.
“Hey,” said Ron, stooping to pick up a few pebbles. Hugo's expression confirmed Ron's suspicions. The Burrow was practically vibrating with noise and people. Not a good place to contemplate your love life.
“Sorry. Needed some air.”
Ron nodded. “Donna?” he chanced.
Hugo winced. Right in one. “She's dating an arrogant git who thinks he's better than everyone else.” Hugo shook his head. “He doesn't really fancy her, and I...” he trailed off.
“When I was fifteen,” Ron started.
“S'not the same, you and Mum are a perfect match.”
Ron laughed so loud that Hugo dropped his pebbles. “We were like oil and water for years before we learned how to be together.”
Hugo looked gobsmacked.
“We were friends-not at first, mind-but we were always, y'know, rowing, and then there'd be weeks where we wouldn't speak--”
“You still row, Dad.”
“Well, yeah,” said Ron with a smile, “but not like then. It was ugly. Ask Uncle Harry.”
“Then how did you...?”
“It took time, is all. We built a solid foundation. It's not easy,” he said. “But if you really want it, you'll work at it.”
Hugo stared at the pond. “Should I tell Donna?”
“Only you know that, Hugo.”
Ron watched as his words sunk in. Hugo stood and brushed his gloves against his cloak. “Thanks, Dad. So, when did you tell Mum that you liked her?”
“Didn't,” said Ron. “She jumped me.”
“Eurgh! Dad!”
Ron laughed all the way back to the Burrow.
Challenge 11: Voting
Poll Round 2, Challenge 11: Voting
Just a reminder for this week and the remaining week, participants are no longer allowed to vote in the competition. Ta :)
Below the cuts are the drabbles and the poll for the eleventh challenge of Round 2 of rwhg_ldws.
If you wish to submit your scores as a comment, please feel free to do so, the comments to this post are screened.
Like last time I did this, there are two drabbles from each participant and therefore two scales of 5 to give a total mark out of 10.
• Please mark both the drabbles out of 5
• Please mark all of the drabbles. If you don't, none of your scores will count.
• If you are taking part please do not vote.
• The order of the drabbles is random.
Challenge 11: Drabbles
Drabble 1 & 2
Author: wanderhomeagain
Title: Slow Thaw
Rating: G
Word Count: 300 each
A/N(optional):
She realises that she's letting him back into her good graces too easily. She shouldn't be so happy that he backed her up last night when she told Harry that she wanted to speak with Xenophilius Lovegood. It should bother her that he's so quick to agree with her.
He's never, not once in the last six-and-a-half years, been so willing to bow down to her wishes.
It should be disconcerting, but for some reason it's not.
He's making an effort.
She can tell that he's remorseful. It's been days since he returned and his guilt still covers him like a shroud. The only other time she's ever seen him look quite like this was after the first task in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and only after Harry was nearly killed.
His hand lingers on her arm for two seconds too long when they Disapparate from camp and her heart begins to pound a little harder. It's the first time he's touched her since he's returned. Not that she had any choice in the matter- he had to touch her to travel- but she still feels that familiar jolt rush down her spine like it always did when they came into physical contact when they were still on speaking terms.
It is when he hangs his head and says that he didn't go home for Christmas- denied himself the pleasure of Molly's cooking, the warmth that always permeates the Burrow- that she begins to really and truly forgive him.
And it is when he stands up to Mr. Lovegood, when he calls the man out for encouraging people to help Harry and then refusing to do so himself, that her knees begin to feel weak, and she is reminded of all the reasons she fell for him in the first place.
******
It's been years since they've made each other this angry. Usually if they row they spend a half-hour fuming and then a couple of hours thinking it over, and then he apologises and she forgives him, or sometimes it's the other way around, but it's always over and done with within a day. Two at the absolute most.
This time, it's been nearly two weeks since she's even spoken to him. He's been sleeping in the guestroom for thirteen nights, and when he wakes every morning his back hurts, but that's not what he's worried about.
He wants to touch her again, to feel her in his arms. He wants to hear what she has to say- about work, or politics, or about the kids- he really doesn't care what.
He forgave her days ago, really, but it's as if she can't forgive herself. Her words were hateful, to be sure, but he cannot comfort her, cannot tell her that it's all right, that he knows she didn't mean it, until she convinces herself of it.
So he side-steps around it.
He tells her that dinner was wonderful and she rolls her eyes, and points to the takeaway cartons- which is, he thinks, at least an acknowledgment that he lives in the same house. He doesn't even hear her muttering to herself in her office like she normally does when she's doing paperwork in the evenings and he's in the den listening to Quidditch on the wireless.
She's been like this for years, giving the cold shoulder to the ones that she's the most angry at.
He's nearly asleep, hoping that he managed to find a comfy spot on the lumpy mattress, and doesn't hear her come in, doesn't realise she's there, until she lays a hand on his arm.
Drabble 3 & 4
Author: queenb23more
Title: In Love and War - Part I
Rating: PG
Word Count: 300
A/N (optional): a bit of dialogue borrowed from Deathly Hallows and preumes that the kiss Harry witnesses was not the first
Hermione glowers at Ron when he claps Harry on the shoulder, gloating that he’s been overruled, before venturing a glance at her out of the corner of his eye as if expecting some sort of gratitude.
She wants to inform him that if he’s waiting for a thank you, he’ll be waiting for quite some time.
Does he really believe that by agreeing with her that they visit Mr Lovegood, she’ll simply give in and forgive him for the pain he has caused?
He left her.
He admitted that he had heard her calling after him but had gone anyway.
Even after the stolen moments and feverish kisses they had shared and the promises they had made to one another…she had thought they meant as much to Ron as they had to her.
And yet, she has to acknowledge that he has been trying, admitting to herself, rather reluctantly, that her resolve is weakening, and he’s making himself more and more difficult for her to ignore.
Irritated by her lack of strength, she turns and returns to her bunk, her jaw set and her face stony. She picks up her book and pretends to resume reading, even though her attention is focused acutely on Ron and Harry, who is accusing Ron of agreeing simply to return to her good graces.
“All’s fair in love and war, and this is a bit of both.”
Pleased to be safely hidden behind The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore, Hermione’s lips curve into the slightest of smiles at Ron’s reply.
He still has a lot to prove and she isn’t ready to forgive him just yet. But for the first time since he returned to them the day before, Hermione believes that day will come and it might be sooner rather than later.
Title: In Love and War - Part II
Ron suspects, briefly, that it’s because he sided with her about Xenophilius Lovegood, but as they Apparate to a hillside overlooking Ottery St. Catchpole, he decides ‘the why’ isn’t important. Whatever the reason, Hermione actually spoke to him that morning, somewhat civilly, and for the first time since getting back to her and Harry, he is hopeful that something decent is going to happen.
His heart tightens as they stare in the direction of the Burrow; it hurts to be so near and unable to go home, but it sinks when Hermione’s snide remark that he was just there for Christmas hits a nerve he cannot suppress.
“I wasn’t at the Burrow!” Ron exclaims, explaining defensively that he’d been at Shell Cottage. He turns away with a heavy but determined heart and suggests that they try another direction.
He understands Hermione’s initial reaction to his return and why it was difficult for her, although he had hoped it would be different and rather than pummeling him, she would have been so relieved that she had thrown her arms around his neck and snogged him like she has the past several months whenever they’ve managed moments alone.
But her continued anger has unnerved him.
Doesn’t she realise that if he could change the past, he would?
That he wouldn’t have been blinded by the locket and believed that she really wanted Harry and had merely settled for him.
That he wouldn’t have stormed off and left her all alone, crying and calling his name.
Doesn’t she realise that he’s really trying to make it up to her?
They trudge along in silence, and he wonders, dejectedly, whether she will ever forgive him.
But when Hermione surreptitiously brushes his hand and looks at him almost longingly, Ron’s hope is sparked once more.
Drabble 5 & 6
Author: belladonna803
Title: By Degrees
Rating: PG
Word Count: 300 + 300 = 600
A/N(optional): None.
It wasn't an immediate thing, falling in love with Ron.
No overwhelming brainwaves of certainty came, no heart-tipped arrows struck, and time did not stand still. Even friendship seemed unlikely.
Just as I can resolutely, unequivocally, incontrovertibly tell you today that Ron is the love of my life, and I would be lost without him, I can also say that it was a slow thing, growing and maturing by degrees.
What Ron and I did have from the very start was a sort of chemistry; the ability to get under each other's skin, whether we were actively trying to or not. And maybe that was the building block. It's hard to say. The art of love is a wondrous and sometimes frightening thing, but the how and why of it will always remain a mystery.
So we bristled, jostled, and jockeyed, building a connection little by little. More than once that link was dashed apart. The pain of it was sharp edged and ruthless, but sometimes learning to fall in love is like that.
I said falling in love with Ron wasn't immediate, and that's the truth. It shouldn't have come as a surprise, then, to realise that I had, right? Yet another lesson: being in love, and knowing it? Two entirely different things.
I began to catch myself enjoying the way he towered over me, the way he made me laugh, the way his eyes shined with enthusiasm when he was happy. I wanted him to look at me like that.
But we hadn't quite bridged our insecurities just yet. Being and knowing are part of it, yes. But it also takes believing that you're good enough for that love.
Belief took longer for Ron than for me, but that was all right. He was absolutely worth the wait.
~*~
Hugo was right where Ron'd expected him to be. It was little more than snow-dusted mud, but Hugo was tossing pebbles into the pond. They clickety-clacked against the ice, and Ron could tell by the force with which they were being thrown that something was wrong. Ron thought he knew what it might be.
“Hey,” said Ron, stooping to pick up a few pebbles. Hugo's expression confirmed Ron's suspicions. The Burrow was practically vibrating with noise and people. Not a good place to contemplate your love life.
“Sorry. Needed some air.”
Ron nodded. “Donna?” he chanced.
Hugo winced. Right in one. “She's dating an arrogant git who thinks he's better than everyone else.” Hugo shook his head. “He doesn't really fancy her, and I...” he trailed off.
“When I was fifteen,” Ron started.
“S'not the same, you and Mum are a perfect match.”
Ron laughed so loud that Hugo dropped his pebbles. “We were like oil and water for years before we learned how to be together.”
Hugo looked gobsmacked.
“We were friends-not at first, mind-but we were always, y'know, rowing, and then there'd be weeks where we wouldn't speak--”
“You still row, Dad.”
“Well, yeah,” said Ron with a smile, “but not like then. It was ugly. Ask Uncle Harry.”
“Then how did you...?”
“It took time, is all. We built a solid foundation. It's not easy,” he said. “But if you really want it, you'll work at it.”
Hugo stared at the pond. “Should I tell Donna?”
“Only you know that, Hugo.”
Ron watched as his words sunk in. Hugo stood and brushed his gloves against his cloak. “Thanks, Dad. So, when did you tell Mum that you liked her?”
“Didn't,” said Ron. “She jumped me.”
“Eurgh! Dad!”
Ron laughed all the way back to the Burrow.
Challenge 11: Voting
Poll Round 2, Challenge 11: Voting