i don't think we're in kansas anymore
who's a bandwagon-jumper? me! me!
I am kind of confused by what this is, but it involves writing fic, as far as I can tell? After making the shiny masterlist, I am mostly cringing at half the stuff on the aforementioned shiny masterlist, but I am a masochist, why do think I love Logan. okay, so.
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I am kind of confused by what this is, but it involves writing fic, as far as I can tell? After making the shiny masterlist, I am mostly cringing at half the stuff on the aforementioned shiny masterlist, but I am a masochist, why do think I love Logan. okay, so.
( Read more... )
pour a little salt, we were never here
harry/hermione; harry/ginny, ron/hermione | post DH |
what happens is stupid, they all just grow up.
-
The files just pile on and on, and she starts getting headaches earlier each day. Nobody said saving the world, one signature at a time, would be this hard.
He calls; she picks up on the fifth ring.
“Run away with me?”
His voice is teasing, a lilt to it, that she hasn’t heard in much too long, and it makes her day.
“Anytime.” she says. Gives him a two-finger salute that he can’t see.
He laughs.
Her head aches a little less afterwards.
-
That’s when it gets strange.
-
She tries to mix it up, because he doesn’t.
Just give me time to make my damsel hair.
After I've finished screaming at the department, alright? Wouldn't do if there was someone left here who didn't hate me.
Book a corner of the world, Harry, I’m there on my white steed.
“Run away with me?” he’ll say yet again, voice softer, each time.
And she- she’s mostly running out of things to say.
-
What happens isn't poetic, or even particularly epic or tragic. What happens is stupid, they all just grow up.
-
"Haven't spoken to Harry in ages," Ron tells her over the evening drinks. They make a point to meet at least twice a week. This is a healthy relationship, the kind where they make time out for each other and talk, and the spaces between their fingers aren't filled by ghosts, and they will not name their children after the dead, "bloody hell, you won't even know he's in the Department."
She nods, takes a dainty sip. There are things she learned about being a girl, even in middle of endless war and bloodshed and screaming. God, the screaming.
"You--," Ron is avoiding looking at her, she notes distantly; he's not very good at hiding his feelings. It's one of the reasons she's always loved him, "does he talk to you?"
She thinks about that for a moment, "no." He doesn't talk to her. He just talks, and sometimes, she's just there.
Ron nods, much too quickly, "we need trio time."
They haven't been that in very long, she wants to remind him. She takes another sip, instead, and lets her thumb rub patterns against the frost lining the glass.
-
She will find a ring at the bottom of her glass that night, and her heart will break, and she will have been in love. Maybe in that order.
-
"Ron asked me to marry him." she cuts him off, mid-way.
He's silent for a minute, "congratulations". If he's unhappy about this in any way, she can't tell. Maybe she forgot the language he's written in. She used to know it well, once, she remembers. Maybe she's out of practice with the letters.
"You don't even know what I said."
He laughs, or something, "you said 'yes', Hermione."
Of course she did.
-
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She thinks maybe if she said yes, maybe if she just said yes, he'd stop saying it, because god knows, he's just pushing to see how far he can go, before she snaps, and he didn't even choose her, ever, none of the times he could have, and how is this fair?
"No," she says, she doesn't want to find out.
-
"This doesn't mean this is over," she says fiercely, bending down to bow, before slipping her hand through his, and putting an arm across his shoulder. They're out of sync with the beat, she'll realize later. But the dance with the best man isn't customary, so maybe people aren't looking, "you, me, Ron, together, we will never be over."
She wants to believe that, she wants to believe it so much. She just wants to believe. In magic. Love. Friendship. Anything.
He pulls her closer, their hips align, and for a second they are in sync, before she pulls back, startled.
He looks at her through his glasses, they're square now, and occasionally, she wants to break them. His gaze is inscrutable, and she finds she has to drop her own to the floor, "we already are."
-
What this ends isn't anything- nothing real- because there was never anything there. What it ends is a possibility. A cabin in the woods and staying frozen forever.
-
Ginny's ring is beautiful, it takes her breath away for a full three seconds.
"The ring is gorgeous," she says.
"Congratulations," she says.
"I hope you'll be very happy together." she says.
Harry grins, and it's bright and full of life and a before-the-war look that almost makes her ache. She divides her Gregorian Calendar on those denominations.
She is not being fair, and she's not a good person, but she drinks too much anyway, and the jealousy going down is a slow burn.
But eventually she smiles back, and she thinks it's real enough to almost be real.
He loses the brightness through the long-drawn evening, and when she looks at him next, he's lost in thought across the room, mid-movement, like he just...forgot to move. In this war there were no winners, she knows, just wounds festering beneath the surface.
Harry turns his head, and looks at her, unfocused, and then appears to recognize her, raising his glass in a silent toast.
This is the surface.
-
This is how she loves Harry Potter: as every other girl in the world, with the starry-eyed longing for a boy in the history books.
This is how she loves Harry: as Hermione.
-
Run away with me.
His voice is hard, inflexible, and it's everything she'd been terrified of. There is no teasing lilt, no laughter. He's not even pretending anymore.
"I can't," she says, free hand unconsciously coming down to cup her swollen belly, "you know I can't."
"That's not the same as you don't want to." he points out.
She's tired, all of a sudden, "Harry-"
She holds the receiver long after he lets go on the other end, looking at the rain falling outside the window of the cramped Ministry office.
-
She stamps another file.
-
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NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.
Most heartbreaking, depressing and the bleakest Potter fic I have ever read, tbh. Also, amaaaazing. AMAZING. You write so beautifully. I still don't get it.
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And wow, MOST heartbreaking fic, yay. Canon is so heartbreaking all on its own with the wrongness that I don't even compete basically.
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It was, it made me sadcakes.
You find HP canon heartbreaking? I found it curiosly uplifting!
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Hee, I was talking heartbreaking solely in terms of shipping preferences :D
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Oh I seeeeee what you mean. I kind of knew it. Not Harry/Ginny, because... no. But the main trio, I knew it would turn out like that, deep down, tbh.
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I knew too re: the main trio, but I totally kept hope till the sixth book, and then, alas D:
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YUUUPPP. I didn't mind it though. I was like EVERYBODY NOTICE HOW SHE CHOSE HARRY OVER RON B/C THAT IS WHO SHE IS, K THANKS.
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LOL, what constantly amuses me about the movies is how shippy they are, regardless of who's directing. They've been heavily Harmony biased since the beginning, but the last two were just blatant, haha. Especially since the very last scene is a closing in of the camera, till only H/Hr are in the frame, before moving to Harry alone, hee.
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This was hurtful and gorgeous and it hurt so good and I’m so proud of it and we should embroider it on a pillow.
Maybe she forgot the language he's written in.
s o b b i n g
*flail*
sobbing some more
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BUT, REALLY, I HAVEN'T WRITTEN HP FIC IN SO LONG, I APPRECIATE THE REACTION :D
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