New Membership Vote: His Eyes are as Green as Fresh Pickled Toad
We have another candidate for membership! Only members of the community can vote, but I know that the author would love to hear from everyone in the comments. :) The poll will stay open for one week.
TITLE: His Eyes are as Green as Fresh Pickled Toad
AUTHOR: nundu_art
RATING: G
SUMMARY: Ginny remembers that certain shade of green.
WORD COUNT: 1056
His Eyes are as Green as Fresh Pickled Toad
‘Don’t scratch, dear.’
Ginny was perched on a stool beside the stove with her hands now tucked under her legs to avoid the temptation of scratching the purple pustules that dotted her face.
Molly mumbled under her breath as she peered at her copy of ‘Common Magical Ailments’ and slowly stirred the steaming cauldron.
“Ginny, please get a jar of pickled toad from the scullery.’
Ginny hopped off the stool and headed for the cool, dark room off the kitchen. Her mother’s voice followed her.
‘Don’t scratch!’
‘Yes, Mummy,’ Ginny sighed, idly rubbing a new pustule that was rising behind her ear. She searched the shelves, squinting at the labels, until a bright green jar caught her eye. She returned to the kitchen and placed the jar by her mother with an absent minded scratch of her neck.
‘Don’t scratch, Ginny. They’ll spread if you do.’
‘Mmm-hmm.’ She put her chin on her hands, gazing intently at the jar she had just set down. ‘Mummy, you know what that jar of pickled toad reminds me of?’
‘What, dear.’
‘Harry Potter’s eyes.’
Molly’s hand stopped in midair as she was reaching for the jar of toad. ‘What?’
‘Harry Potter’s eyes. He has really green eyes and that pickled toad is the same colour.’
‘Oh dear,’ Molly smiled. ‘I don’t think you should mention that to him.’
*v* *v* *v*
The Great Hall was all abuzz. The pink flowers and confetti had put all the girls in fits of giggles. The minute Lockhart announced the card carrying cupids, Ginny knew exactly to whom she was going to send a Valentine. But a little voice whispered in her ear, ‘He’ll think it’s stupid. You’ll embarrass him. He barely knows you exist.’ She pushed the voice to the small place in the back of her head and bent over her parchment, scribbling then scratching out line after line of her poem, until she was satisfied. As she searched for one of the cupid dwarves, the voice hissed again. Ginny forced it away.
As her class queued up for Transfiguration, Harry and Ron walked past. Had he received her Valentine yet?
‘Oy, you! ‘Arry Potter!’ The dwarf grabbed at Harry, shouting that he had a singing Valentine to deliver. Ginny felt her face heat and ducked behind Vicky as the dwarf brought Harry down, sitting on his legs and bellowing her poem.
‘His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad…’
As Ginny escaped into the classroom, face buried in her hands, a whisper echoed Draco’s taunts. ‘He didn’t like it. He laughed at you.’
Ginny grabbed her hair and tugged, the pain forcing the voice to the back of her consciousness. He had the diary. She’d seen it. How had he found it? She had to get it away from him. It would tell him all her secrets. Again, she began to plan.
*v* *v* *v*
She swam out of the black fog and heard running footsteps. With a moan, she struggled to sit up. Suddenly his face was close to hers. Those bright green eyes were peering into hers. She saw the diary in his hand and took in his blood-soaked robes. A great, shuddering sob escaped from her. As she babbled, Harry helped her to her feet and almost tenderly led her through the Chamber.
*v* *v* *v*
The Christmas table was full of laughter and warmth. She plucked the maggot out of his hair with a grin. Goosebumps rose on his neck and Ginny looked him in the eyes. For once, the bright green irises were barely noticeable. His eyes had darkened, as had the flush creeping up his neck. Ginny sat back with a jolt. Could it be; after all these years?
When he returned from his ‘stroll’ in the garden with Scrimgeour, Ginny and twins regaled him with tales of flying parsnips. His eyes flashed with mirth, but every time he looked at her, the flush rose on his neck again.
*v* *v* *v*
The portrait hole swung open and Harry stepped through. The shouts and Ron’s waving of the Cup seemed to stun him, but his eyes swept the room. They locked on her. Without thinking, without any regard to the crowd around her, she thrust her way towards him. His eyes drew her. She threw her arms around him and kissed him. The kiss was everything she had always thought it would be; firm yet gentle, seeking and giving. It may have lasted for days, but it was over too soon. As they separated, he lifted his head and his eyes swept the room, a look of surprise at their audience. He looked back at her and his green eyes danced. With a slight nod of the head, he led her out the portrait hole.
*v* *v* *v*
She had slept in the squashy armchair by the cold, empty hearth. The fabric was torn and singed but it was the chair they had spent too few hours snuggling a lifetime ago. The room was empty of anyone else. Ron and Hermione had gone to their rooms around midnight. Her parents and brothers had found beds in various empty dormitories. A quiet noise had awoken her. She listened. A soft footfall on the stairs brought him into view. He looked exhausted, even after a long night’s sleep. The dark rings around his eyes belied his age. She stood, letting the blanket drop to the floor. His eyes found hers. Without a word, they stepped towards each other. There was no audience this time. No one was shouting the victory. They wrapped their arms around each other. Ginny buried her face in his chest, listening for what had seemed impossible the day before. His heart beat loud and steady. She tilted her head back to look in his face. His eyes begged for her understanding. She answered him with a kiss.
*v* *v* *v*
‘Albus, don’t scratch.’
He heaved a sigh.
Ginny stirred the cauldron as she ran her finger down the potion instructions. She reached for the jar of pickled toad. The colour glinted in the steam rising from the cauldron. She looked at the face of her son as he scratched absent-mindedly at the purple pustules. She grinned and began to hum.
‘His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad…’
Poll Membership Vote # 37
TITLE: His Eyes are as Green as Fresh Pickled Toad
AUTHOR: nundu_art
RATING: G
SUMMARY: Ginny remembers that certain shade of green.
WORD COUNT: 1056
His Eyes are as Green as Fresh Pickled Toad
‘Don’t scratch, dear.’
Ginny was perched on a stool beside the stove with her hands now tucked under her legs to avoid the temptation of scratching the purple pustules that dotted her face.
Molly mumbled under her breath as she peered at her copy of ‘Common Magical Ailments’ and slowly stirred the steaming cauldron.
“Ginny, please get a jar of pickled toad from the scullery.’
Ginny hopped off the stool and headed for the cool, dark room off the kitchen. Her mother’s voice followed her.
‘Don’t scratch!’
‘Yes, Mummy,’ Ginny sighed, idly rubbing a new pustule that was rising behind her ear. She searched the shelves, squinting at the labels, until a bright green jar caught her eye. She returned to the kitchen and placed the jar by her mother with an absent minded scratch of her neck.
‘Don’t scratch, Ginny. They’ll spread if you do.’
‘Mmm-hmm.’ She put her chin on her hands, gazing intently at the jar she had just set down. ‘Mummy, you know what that jar of pickled toad reminds me of?’
‘What, dear.’
‘Harry Potter’s eyes.’
Molly’s hand stopped in midair as she was reaching for the jar of toad. ‘What?’
‘Harry Potter’s eyes. He has really green eyes and that pickled toad is the same colour.’
‘Oh dear,’ Molly smiled. ‘I don’t think you should mention that to him.’
*v* *v* *v*
The Great Hall was all abuzz. The pink flowers and confetti had put all the girls in fits of giggles. The minute Lockhart announced the card carrying cupids, Ginny knew exactly to whom she was going to send a Valentine. But a little voice whispered in her ear, ‘He’ll think it’s stupid. You’ll embarrass him. He barely knows you exist.’ She pushed the voice to the small place in the back of her head and bent over her parchment, scribbling then scratching out line after line of her poem, until she was satisfied. As she searched for one of the cupid dwarves, the voice hissed again. Ginny forced it away.
As her class queued up for Transfiguration, Harry and Ron walked past. Had he received her Valentine yet?
‘Oy, you! ‘Arry Potter!’ The dwarf grabbed at Harry, shouting that he had a singing Valentine to deliver. Ginny felt her face heat and ducked behind Vicky as the dwarf brought Harry down, sitting on his legs and bellowing her poem.
‘His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad…’
As Ginny escaped into the classroom, face buried in her hands, a whisper echoed Draco’s taunts. ‘He didn’t like it. He laughed at you.’
Ginny grabbed her hair and tugged, the pain forcing the voice to the back of her consciousness. He had the diary. She’d seen it. How had he found it? She had to get it away from him. It would tell him all her secrets. Again, she began to plan.
*v* *v* *v*
She swam out of the black fog and heard running footsteps. With a moan, she struggled to sit up. Suddenly his face was close to hers. Those bright green eyes were peering into hers. She saw the diary in his hand and took in his blood-soaked robes. A great, shuddering sob escaped from her. As she babbled, Harry helped her to her feet and almost tenderly led her through the Chamber.
*v* *v* *v*
The Christmas table was full of laughter and warmth. She plucked the maggot out of his hair with a grin. Goosebumps rose on his neck and Ginny looked him in the eyes. For once, the bright green irises were barely noticeable. His eyes had darkened, as had the flush creeping up his neck. Ginny sat back with a jolt. Could it be; after all these years?
When he returned from his ‘stroll’ in the garden with Scrimgeour, Ginny and twins regaled him with tales of flying parsnips. His eyes flashed with mirth, but every time he looked at her, the flush rose on his neck again.
*v* *v* *v*
The portrait hole swung open and Harry stepped through. The shouts and Ron’s waving of the Cup seemed to stun him, but his eyes swept the room. They locked on her. Without thinking, without any regard to the crowd around her, she thrust her way towards him. His eyes drew her. She threw her arms around him and kissed him. The kiss was everything she had always thought it would be; firm yet gentle, seeking and giving. It may have lasted for days, but it was over too soon. As they separated, he lifted his head and his eyes swept the room, a look of surprise at their audience. He looked back at her and his green eyes danced. With a slight nod of the head, he led her out the portrait hole.
*v* *v* *v*
She had slept in the squashy armchair by the cold, empty hearth. The fabric was torn and singed but it was the chair they had spent too few hours snuggling a lifetime ago. The room was empty of anyone else. Ron and Hermione had gone to their rooms around midnight. Her parents and brothers had found beds in various empty dormitories. A quiet noise had awoken her. She listened. A soft footfall on the stairs brought him into view. He looked exhausted, even after a long night’s sleep. The dark rings around his eyes belied his age. She stood, letting the blanket drop to the floor. His eyes found hers. Without a word, they stepped towards each other. There was no audience this time. No one was shouting the victory. They wrapped their arms around each other. Ginny buried her face in his chest, listening for what had seemed impossible the day before. His heart beat loud and steady. She tilted her head back to look in his face. His eyes begged for her understanding. She answered him with a kiss.
*v* *v* *v*
‘Albus, don’t scratch.’
He heaved a sigh.
Ginny stirred the cauldron as she ran her finger down the potion instructions. She reached for the jar of pickled toad. The colour glinted in the steam rising from the cauldron. She looked at the face of her son as he scratched absent-mindedly at the purple pustules. She grinned and began to hum.
‘His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad…’
Poll Membership Vote # 37