shiiki
in
shiikifics
FIC: Out of the Ordinary (Colin/Romilda)
Title: Out of the Ordinary
Author: shiiki
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Colin Creevey/Romilda Vane
Fandom: Harry Potter
Word Count: 506
Summary: Sometimes Romilda wishes things were normal. Not right now, though. rarepair_shorts prompt 9: pining for normalcy.
Notes: It's been a while since I did one of these! I had to actually read through my former 'chapters' to refresh my memory. This prompt gave me a bit of trouble as although expanding on it was easy enough, doing so in a way so as to move the story forward was trickier.
Link to prompt table.
The war has changed everything, including the way Romilda thinks and acts. In a way, she's proud of herself. Who can call her a shallow gossip now that she's taken a stand and become a true Gryffindor? Nonetheless she wonders frequently -- sometimes wistfully -- what it'd be like if this were a normal year.
If this were an ordinary school year, she would probably have spent it engrossed with the latest Hogwarts gossip.
If the school terms had progressed as they were meant to, maybe she would be fretting about O.W.L.s by now and wishing she hadn't spent quite so much time poring over Teen Witch during History of Magic.
If things were normal, she might perhaps have managed to hook up with a boy who fell into her old definition of 'cute' and 'eligible'. It would have involved a date or two, with her winning over the handsome, hopefully older, student with her wit, charm, and beauty.
If everything were the way it should have been: no Carrows, no Snape, she wouldn't be facing insomnia -- nightmares about brutal murders and the Cruciatus work better than coffee in keeping a girl awake -- in the wee hours of the morning and watching Colin Creevey arrange his photographs on the table in front of the common room fire.
Every few minutes he yawns. Romilda finds it mildly amusing that while he tried to cover them up initially, he's either too tired or too engrossed in his display to bother now. She suspects the latter, as he obviously needs sleep, but whenever she suggests he go up to his dormitory, he brushes her off.
'Not that tired,' he'll say, and change the subject. 'Oh, I like this one. Take a look, Milly.'
Her father's pet name for her falling sweetly and innocently from his lips and she doesn't correct him the way she would have if anyone else had dared to try it. From Colin, it makes her feel warm and cared for, sure that he is staying up for the sole purpose of keeping her company.
She obediently takes the photograph he hands to her, but she can't tear her eyes away from his face. Most people would call Colin's face forgettable -- she would describe him as plain and not worth a second glance if circumstances didn't turned out the way they did this year. Nothing about his features or colouring is particularly striking. Except there was that flash in his otherwise ordinary brown eyes when he defended her; that obstinate set of his normally placid mouth when he took that Cruciatus; the softness that came over his entire face when he saw her wake up in the Room of Requirement.
It's not the flawless face of the hero whom she used to fantasise about ... but it's become the comforting face of her hero.
If things were normal, she would never have come to this realisation.
Things are not normal, though, and Romilda finds that there are also instances where she doesn't wish for them to be so.
Author: shiiki
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Colin Creevey/Romilda Vane
Fandom: Harry Potter
Word Count: 506
Summary: Sometimes Romilda wishes things were normal. Not right now, though. rarepair_shorts prompt 9: pining for normalcy.
Notes: It's been a while since I did one of these! I had to actually read through my former 'chapters' to refresh my memory. This prompt gave me a bit of trouble as although expanding on it was easy enough, doing so in a way so as to move the story forward was trickier.
Link to prompt table.
The war has changed everything, including the way Romilda thinks and acts. In a way, she's proud of herself. Who can call her a shallow gossip now that she's taken a stand and become a true Gryffindor? Nonetheless she wonders frequently -- sometimes wistfully -- what it'd be like if this were a normal year.
If this were an ordinary school year, she would probably have spent it engrossed with the latest Hogwarts gossip.
If the school terms had progressed as they were meant to, maybe she would be fretting about O.W.L.s by now and wishing she hadn't spent quite so much time poring over Teen Witch during History of Magic.
If things were normal, she might perhaps have managed to hook up with a boy who fell into her old definition of 'cute' and 'eligible'. It would have involved a date or two, with her winning over the handsome, hopefully older, student with her wit, charm, and beauty.
If everything were the way it should have been: no Carrows, no Snape, she wouldn't be facing insomnia -- nightmares about brutal murders and the Cruciatus work better than coffee in keeping a girl awake -- in the wee hours of the morning and watching Colin Creevey arrange his photographs on the table in front of the common room fire.
Every few minutes he yawns. Romilda finds it mildly amusing that while he tried to cover them up initially, he's either too tired or too engrossed in his display to bother now. She suspects the latter, as he obviously needs sleep, but whenever she suggests he go up to his dormitory, he brushes her off.
'Not that tired,' he'll say, and change the subject. 'Oh, I like this one. Take a look, Milly.'
Her father's pet name for her falling sweetly and innocently from his lips and she doesn't correct him the way she would have if anyone else had dared to try it. From Colin, it makes her feel warm and cared for, sure that he is staying up for the sole purpose of keeping her company.
She obediently takes the photograph he hands to her, but she can't tear her eyes away from his face. Most people would call Colin's face forgettable -- she would describe him as plain and not worth a second glance if circumstances didn't turned out the way they did this year. Nothing about his features or colouring is particularly striking. Except there was that flash in his otherwise ordinary brown eyes when he defended her; that obstinate set of his normally placid mouth when he took that Cruciatus; the softness that came over his entire face when he saw her wake up in the Room of Requirement.
It's not the flawless face of the hero whom she used to fantasise about ... but it's become the comforting face of her hero.
If things were normal, she would never have come to this realisation.
Things are not normal, though, and Romilda finds that there are also instances where she doesn't wish for them to be so.